


Macabre Records

by kittenintheden



Category: Empire Records (1995), Soul Eater
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Anxiety, Companionable Snark, Depression, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Many swears, Punk, Rock and Roll, Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:32:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9286730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenintheden/pseuds/kittenintheden
Summary: There's one last summer before the employees of Macabre Records scatter to the four winds and everything's going sideways. Their beloved record store has a dark cloud hanging over it called Gorgon Sisters Music -- the owners aren't just poaching their customers, they're also pressuring Kid to sell his dad's shop. The morning starts out badly when Black Star gambles away a desperately-needed chunk of the store's cash, and things go downhill from there.  But it's Ragnorak Day, and the crew knows if they don't make it the best damn day possible, they'll regret it forever.





	1. Dolla dolla bill, y'all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my Resbang 2016 contribution. Huge, huge thanks to my artist partners, thesockswhowearsfox and Sleepmarshes. Additional thanks to Sleepmarshes and ProMa for their camaraderie and beta-reading skills. This fic has a companion music playlist, cover art, and original music. Links will be available in the fic and on my profile! Enjoy this ridiculousness.

 

They were $3000 short this month, even if he counted digital payments and gift cards.

Shit.

Kid rubbed his hands over his face, hoping that when he opened his eyes and looked at the safe again, it would magically be full of money.

Nope. Was that a cobweb in the corner? His fingers itched for one of the Swiffer dusters he kept stashed in the desk drawer. He bit the inside of his cheek, resisting the urge, and replaced the deposit pouch before closing the safe. Tomorrow it'd go straight to the bank.

This was bad. Really bad. Ever since Gorgon Sisters Music moved to Death City, he'd been steadily hemorrhaging customers. Turned out quirky old-school record stores like his dad's shop didn't hold quite the hipster appeal they did even a few years ago. Not when the competition looked like an Apple store married a Brookstone and had a spoiled rotten asshole kid covered in chrome and massage chairs with headphone jacks and giant video game screens. Macabre Records had a flea market television and a barely functional Xbox by the bargain bins.

His fingernails cut into his hand and he clenched his fist tighter, letting the pain ground him and keep him from spiraling into the echo chamber inside his head. He was a failure, he was a disappointment, he was a mistake, the lowest of the low, a complete and total...

Squeezing his eyes shut, he whispered, "This too shall pass, this too shall pass, this too shall pass." The panic rising in his throat didn't disappear, but it did sink back down to rejoin the knot where his stomach used to be. Months of barely staying out of the red didn't do nice things to his appetite.

He'd had to clean out the store's emergency fund and forego his own paycheck, but he'd made sure he wouldn't have to fire anyone. Not this month, anyway.

Shit.

A sharp rap on the office window ripped him out of his swirling thoughts and he turned to find Black Star tapping his naked wrist like he was wearing a wristwatch, which he wasn't because Black Star didn't believe time applied to him.

"Yo, it's quitting time," Black Star said. "Front's all closed up. Pack it in and let's go, El Jefe."

Kid sighed to the ceiling and asked the spirit of his dearly departed father what he'd done to inherit his old classmate as his longest-term employee. Obnoxious, anti-authority, terrible with customers. If they weren't friends, he'd probably fire him.

Probably.

He was the only one who could carry three boxes of stock at once, though. It made inventory days a breeze.

Forcing himself to unclench his fists, he took a deep breath and put on a neutral face as he opened his door and came out into the break room. Other than Black Star, everyone else had gone home close to an hour ago. No one liked sticking around when it was Star's turn to close. He tried to rope everyone into games of Frisbee with the 99-cent used CDs.

Kid glanced at the wall above the threadbare employee couch and spotted a silvery piece of plastic still embedded in the plaster from the last incident.

Black Star bounced on the balls of his feet, the living personification of kinetic energy. Always in motion.

"I got a game of midnight flag football to get to, dude," Black Star said. "We done?"

"Yeah, I just have to... damn it," Kid said. "I didn't grab Patty's cash drawer. She always forgets to bring it back here. Just go to your game. I'll finish locking up."

"Not like you to forget," Star said, narrowing his eyes.

Kid bristled. "Excuse me for not being perfect."

Black Star crossed his arms and looked Kid up and down. For all his Bro-with-a-capital-B persona, the dude was surprisingly observant. "You are perfect, though," he said. "It's kinda your thing."

"Will you get out of here already?" Kid snapped. "You obviously want to go."

"Whoa, homeslice, whoa. Don't tear my head off." Black Star tilted his spiky blue-haired head to the side. "Actually, on second thought, try. Bet I could fight you off with one hand."

"You're a grade-A fuckwit and I don't know why my dad gave you this job." Kid shoved past him toward the front of the store.

Black Star caught him by the arm. "Seriously, what crawled up your ass and died? Since when do you get all dickhead about my job?"

Kid gave an exasperated sigh. "Since there may be no job to come back to in two weeks because we are broke. Completely broke. Broke-ass broke. Are there more ways I can explain how broke we are? I don't know, let me Google it. B-R-O-K-E-A-S-F-U-C-K."

For possibly the first time since Kid had known him, Black Star looked dumbstruck.

Now that he was on a roll, Kid kept going. "The Gorgon Sisters have been breathing down my neck to sell, and I think I might have to. Plus, you-know-what is tomorrow and I'm done, Star, I'm so done. Tomorrow's going to make or break us. This is it. This is as far as I go."

"Get out of here," Star said, jerking his head toward the back door.

Kid blinked at him. "What?"

"Go home, man. I'll get the drawer, I'll recount the money, I'll take it to the drop box at the bank. You need to get out of here and take a bath or arrange your paperclip collection or do whatever you do to de-stress before you spontaneously combust."

"I don't..." Kid started. "That's not a good idea. There's too much to prep for, and I have to figure out how I'm going to make sure everyone gets paid next period, and I have to check up on our guest's flight status, and —"

Black Star picked Kid up, threw him over his shoulder, and hauled him to the door. Once he'd been placed safely outside, Star handed him his bag.

"It's gonna be fine. Star's got this."

Kid gripped his bag so hard his knuckles turned white. "You're talking in the third person. That is historically a very bad indicator."

Star grinned and flashed a peace sign before slamming the door in Kid's face.

Once he was reasonably sure Kid had finally given up and gone to find his car, Black Star went straight to the safe, opened it, and took out the deposit pouch. He flipped it into the air and caught it.

"Come on, baby," he said. "In the immortal words of Wu-Tang, cash rules everything around me, and you know I hate being anything but the supreme ruler. Dolla dolla bill, y'all."

* * *

It was fitting that Black Star strolled beneath the multicolored lights of Caesars Palace at exactly midnight. If he had to miss flag football, it would only do to spend his time somewhere befitting a god. Most Death City inhabitants considered Vegas a complete waste of time and cash, but Star had a certain fondness for the bright, loud, overwrought absurdity of The Strip. It just suited him. Who knew why.

Weeknights mean nothing in Sin City, so the inebriated crowds were still going strong. The clatter of slot machines and dull throb of shitty pop music filled the air like cigarette smoke. Which, coincidentally, also filled the air.

Star paused in front of a fountain and fixed his eyes on the marble-encased gods staring blankly back at him.

"You and me, Poseidon, you fish-fucking weirdo," he said, jabbing a thumb into his own chest. "Time to pay up."

The casino floor looked like every other casino floor in Vegas -- machines, bright lights, and old alcoholics for miles. It smelled like eleven-dollar bottom-shelf margaritas and destroyed dreams. He breathed it in with confidence and headed straight for the roulette tables.

A small crowd already played, but he paid them no mind as he casually walked up and plopped half the cash on "black" and the other half on "even." The woman to his left boggled at the stack of bills and the attendant didn't even bat an eye.

The wheel turned round and round, the little white ball clattering every which way until at last it slowed and settled.

Twenty-six black. Just getting warmed up.

The attendant stacked chips on top of the cash and removed the marker. Black Star gathered his winnings and place the whole shebang on "3rd 12."

"Drink for you, sir?" asked a server with a full tray of cocktails.

Without looking away, Black Star grabbed a jack and coke and threw it back. He tossed a chip onto the server's tray and rubbed his hands together.

"That's a good ball. Keep your god happy."

The ball fell into a new slot. Another win. The chips were getting higher and more people were gathering to watch.

"Wow," said a blonde-haired kid about Star's own age. "Where'd you pick up your luck, man?"

Star leaned back and laughed. "No luck necessary when you're this awesome, my friend."

Another win later, he was pretty sure he'd won enough to keep Macabre Records in business for another year. People of all ages and genders gathered around the table, some putting down their own bets and hoping whatever fire fueled Star's blood would rub off on them as well. They buzzed with excitement, waiting to see what he'd do next. The marble gods watched from the sconces above, silently musing on this wild young player.

He raised his hand and the crowd went quiet, though the effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact that no one else in the casino gave a shit.

Black Star kissed two fingers and raised them in the air. He said, "This one's for you and the Skull, Kid."

He put down his bet. "Everything on Eight Black."

The crowd gasped. Everything on a single number. There was no way. He couldn't!

But he did, and he threw back another jack and coke while he was at it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Star spotted a few members of the security detail eyeballing him. Vegas, man. Ah well, this would be his last game. Then he'd return to Death City, flush with cash and pride, and put it all in the bank. Well, maybe he'd give himself a nice bonus first. Either way, Kid would wake up tomorrow without a worry. The shop wasn't going anywhere.

The ball spun slower, and slower, and slower.

Everyone held their breath as it stuttered over the tops of the numbers.

And fell directly into Twelve Red.

Silence fell. As much silence as can fall in a packed casino, anyway.

Without any fanfare, the crowd dispersed and the attendant raked up all the winnings, including Kid's cash.

An older man clapped a hand on Black Star's shoulder and said, "Son, I sure hope that wasn't your life savings or nothin'."

He continued to stare at the space on the table that the money used to occupy. Then he looked up at the carved gods laughing down at him.

"Well, it's not like he can hold it against me for trying to help, right?" he said.

No one responded.


	2. Twenty-Something Does Not Care

The cupcakes had to be perfect. _They had to be perfect._ If they weren't perfect, everything would be ruined.

With the steady hands of a practiced calligrapher, Jackie delicately squeezed white icing from a pastry bag to create the pattern of a mask over the dark frosting that covered three dozen of her very best bourbon apple cupcakes. When she finished, she released the breath she'd been holding and admired her work.

Every tiny cake had a perfect representation of Ragnarok's signature face mask on it. Their bulging white eyes watched her admiringly, and for half a second, she let herself feel relieved.

There was hope for this day yet.

She'd just barely gotten them successfully packed up in her special multi-tiered cupcake case when a horn blared in front of the house. Jackie's heart leapt to her throat, lodging itself right below her vocal chords so she could barely wheeze out a goodbye to her parents before grabbing up her things and rushing to the door.

Before she reached for the knob, she turned to the mirror above the foyer table. A piece of hair by her ear stuck out at an odd angle. She licked her lips, set down her cupcakes and bag, and lifted shaking fingers to tuck it back and smooth the rest of her long dark hair. One quick assessment later, she decided her makeup was still flawless and her gray cardigan and plaid skirt were still the right choice.

Deep breath. This was it. The day she confessed her love. The day she confessed everything.

Ragnarok Day.

Kim blared on the horn again and she forced herself to move.

"About time," Kim said when Jackie slid into the passenger seat and carefully stashed her cupcakes in the back. "Did you sleep at all?"

Jackie glared at her best friend, dressed in torn jean shorts and a cropped band shirt, looking completely at ease and completely flawless with her bubblegum pink hair and stolen Gucci sunglasses. Kim had one hand on the wheel, slowly chewing gum like she had zero fucks to give. Jackie envied her so much. For not caring, for being so cool, for looking that good without stressing about it for hours.

"I got four hours, that's plenty," Jackie said, folding her arms. "I had to finish  my prep work last night and get a last batch in."

Kim eyed the sweets and broke into a grin. "You are such a nerd and I love you for it. You ready for this?"

Despite her nerves, Jackie allowed herself a small smile. "Definitely."

"Today you confess." Kim twisted in her seat and held out a pinky finger. "Swear it."

Gently, Jackie reached out and wrapped her own pinky around Kim's and fixed her dark brown eyes on Kim's brilliant green. She could feel the words on her tongue, sugaring her mouth and begging to be let go.

"I swear," she said.

Kim laughed, pulling Jackie forward and planting a kiss on her forehead before turning back to the wheel and loosing the parking break. "I do not get your obsession with that bizarro freak, but I'm proud of you. He's a lucky dude, and if he doesn't treat you like the queen you are, I'll personally kick his ass. Now get me one of those cupcakes, I skipped breakfast."

Jackie breathed a "yeah" and tried to catch her breath as she reached back to get Kim a cupcake. A thousand thoughts whirled inside her brain. Her nerves were alight with anticipation and terror. Her forehead tingled where Kim kissed her. Her cheeks burned with secrets.

And try as she might, she couldn't ignore the slight odor of whiskey on Kim's breath as they peeled out from the curb.

* * *

 

The day was already too bright. Stupid bright.

Soul hated bright. Soul hated the sun.

Soul probably shouldn't have stayed in Nevada.

With a grumbling sigh, he slipped his key into the front door of Macabre Records and shut it behind him. No one else was here yet, which wasn't surprising. Opening was the worst. He would 100% rather be sleeping.

He put in his earphones and cranked up the sound, trying to make the best of it as he got to work. Alarm off, lights on. Security cameras (or camera, really) up. Customer Xbox and retro video games booted up, listening booths functional. Time to switch out the cash drawers. Look, Patty's drawer managed to get put away last night. Miraculous.

Some of the drawers seemed a little low, but he tried not to pay it any mind. He was sure Kid had cash in the back to stock them up. They'd need the extra for the expected crowd today.

Soul allowed himself an eyeroll at the thought of dealing with some fuckhead celebrity who had faded in relevance two years ago but still insisted on doing signing tours anyway. Who fucking signed CD copies of their fucking singles anymore?

The bell above the front door sounded and he glanced up to see Patty bounce in, listening to her own headphones and whipping her blonde bob to and fro with her usual unabashed self-confidence. She twirled and bopped her way over to the checkout counter in the center of the store and draped herself over the top when she got there, kicking up her feet.

"Mornin' Soulie," she sing-songed. "How's my favorite grumpapotamus today?"

"Give him coffee and he might tell you," Soul said.

"I can do coffee," she said, skipping off to the break room. Sure enough, the sound and smell of ground beans followed soon after her exit.

Not two minutes later, Jackie bustled in with about a million cupcakes, followed by Kim with a messenger bag draped across her torso and an aura of too-cool-to-be-here. Soul knew that look. He and Kim were in constant competition for champion.

He also knew how much of a front it was, but that was neither here nor there.

Patty, always intuitive despite all appearances, came out of the back with four coffees in tow, all made to their various preferences, which they all gratefully accepted. Black Star was nowhere to be found, but that wasn't unusual. Besides, the four of them were more than a match for morning prep.

"Roshambo for control of the Sonos?" Kim asked.

"I've got too much else to think about today, I'm out," said Jackie, sipping her coffee.

"Best of three," Soul said, sticking out his fist.

Three rounds later, Patty was declared winner. She whipped out her phone and queued up Sleigh Bells. The others groaned, but such were the rules of Sonos control.

Like a well-oiled disaffected youth machine, they worked around each other in the practiced dance of retail employees. Organize, stock, clean, repeat. Despite their protests, the others nodded and sang along to the music, getting into the rhythm of the day.

As Kim ran a Swiffer over the shiny concrete floor behind the aisles, Soul dragged the giant cardboard cutout of Ragnarok out of the back. Patty and Jackie joined him to set it up, which took a not-insignificant amount of teamwork considering it had way too many parts, most of which seemed to be women's limbs.

"Setting up weird-ass hentai puzzles is not part of my job description," Soul said as he taped Ragnarok's bulging, muscled arm into place.

"It isn't in any of our job descriptions," Patty said. "I have a disembodied torso here. I feel like that's probably not a good thing."

Kim leaned on the handle of her mop and snorted at their efforts. "Gods, he's so pervy and weird. I don't know what you see in him, Jackie."

Jackie fit her last piece into the cutout with extreme care and frowned. "He's a genius. His music is a testament to the lack of inertia in our modern lives."

Soul and Patty stood back with Kim to admire the cutout in all its shiny, twisted glory. Ragnarok, broad-chested and more muscled than a pro-wrestler on steroids, stood amid a writhing mass of swooning women. Most of them wore six inch heels, string bikinis, and not much else. Soul wrinkled his nose. In his opinion, women could wear whatever the fuck they wanted, even if it was nothing, but he had an inkling that these women didn't choose their wardrobe for this shoot. The musician's signature black-and-white mask grinned in a way that could only be referred to as a leer of impressive magnitude.

"Christ, this dude's a creep," Soul muttered.

"Agreed," Kim and Patty said, nodding.

Jackie tore a piece of tape with her teeth and spat it out before scolding them. "He is _not_ a creep and you're all terrible. He's just eccentric."

"Is eccentric another way of saying 'way too old to wear a paisley cravat with his hipster suit?'" Patty asked, tilting her head as she stared at the cutout.

Kim giggled and Jackie flushed.

"He's only forty-two," Jackie mumbled, looking away from the others and crossing her arms.

"Oh come on, Jacks," Kim said. "The guy is a creep of the highest order. He's like a ranked officer in the CreepCorp. He has a PhD in Creepology."  
  
"He's not that bad! He donates to charity!"  
  
"If creeping were an Olympic sport, he'd have eight gold medals and a lifetime coaching gig. Besides, I've heard he's a real dickhole to people who work for him. And that he'll only drink lemon-flavored mineral water out of a green glass."  
  
"Okay, I get it," Jackie snapped. "Can we move on?"

"I think it's a blue glass," Patty said.

With a frustrated cry, Jackie threw her hands up and stormed off toward the break room, her dark hair whipping behind her like a very angry flag.

Kim sighed. "Sorry, I should have known better. Her anxiety's eating her alive today because she finally gets to meet her idol in person." She held out the Swiffer to Soul. "I'll go talk to her."

"Actually," Soul said, pushing the mop back with a finger. "Maybe I should go."

"Oooooh," Patty said, putting her hands on either side of her face. "Soulie wants to go comfort his someday-lady, so cute!"

Soul rolled his red eyes skyward. "Keep it down, Patty."

"I can't help in, I'm shipping the two of you so hard. I write friend fics at night to help me sleep," she said.

"Shut up, you do not," Soul said, his lip curling to reveal a pointed eyetooth.

Patty swayed her hips back and forth and beamed. "You guys are fake-married and there's a cabin by a lake and space dragons and a kazoo-playing postman."

Soul's impassive stare could have been framed as art and entitled "Twenty-Something Does Not Care."

Kim gave him a shove. "Go on, Lover Boy. Tell your girlfriend that her bestie is sorry for being a bitch about her favorite artist."

With a shrug, Soul slipped his hands in his pockets and strolled off to the break room. He tried to pretend he hadn't seen Kim slip her silver flask out of her bag. It was only nine-thirty.

He found Jackie pacing back and forth in front of Kid's office, tapping her fingers together in a steady rhythm and murmuring to herself. Her brown Mary Janes clunked across the hard floor but she paid the sound no mind.

"Knock, knock," Soul said as he leaned against the doorframe.

Jackie startled and whirled to look at him, letting out an angry puff of air. "Are you coming to rib me some more?"

"Depends," he said as he walked toward her. "Are you going to pay me off in cupcakes?"

With the smallest half smile, she walked over to her case, flipped it open, and removed a cupcake for him. "I stayed up until three AM making these stupid things," she said.

Soul took a massive bite and said, "Why?" around a mouthful of cake.

Jackie brushed crumbs off her cardigan. "Because today has to be perfect, and if making three dozen perfectly frosted Rognarok cupcakes helps it start out perfect, than that's what I had to do." She shifted from foot to foot and rubbed her forearm with the opposite hand.

"I couldn't sleep," she confessed. "Today's the day. I promised myself I wouldn't transfer to Pepperdine without saying something."

Soul swallowed. "You promised me, too. I don't know how much longer I can deal with Patty giving me shit for being in love with you without lighting her fic collection on fire. It's annoying."

"Oh, whatever," Jackie said, shoving him in the shoulder. "It's not like you even do anything, you just don't deny it. You know she's a romantic."

"I don't deny it because you asked me not to," he said.

Her smile faltered and she dropped her gaze. "Yeah. I know. Thanks."

Soul tossed his empty cupcake wrapper at the waste basket and put his hand on her shoulder. "It'll be okay, Jacks. She's your best friend. That doesn't just go away. I mean, not like I'd know, because I don't have friends. People make me stabby."

"Which is why you're in a customer service job. You're so full of shit."

"We're all full of shit, you Type-A Catholic schoolgirl wannabe."

"Disaffected misanthrope."

"Workaholic dork."

"Failed musician."

Soul flinched at her last jab and she automatically slapped a hand over her mouth. "Jesus, Soul, I'm sorry. I'm an asshole. Add 'terrible at banter' to my list of faults."

"It's fine," he said, shrugging it off. His shrug was just slightly too tense to be believable.

They stood in awkward silence for a few seconds.

"This day is going to kill us, isn't it?" Jackie said.

"Probably," Soul answered.

The whole shop had been prepping for this day for a long time. Ragnarok had agreed to stop at their store during his tour, which would bring a much-needed flow of new blood, even if the new blood happened to skew older than their regulars. Not like the regulars bought much these days, anyway. They just commandeered the Xbox and made out in the booths.

More than that, though, today felt like the countdown to something huge, and they couldn't put their finger on it. This summer had felt tight, full. Ready to burst like a raincloud over the desert. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, they didn't know. Kid had been tense and snappy. Jackie was preparing to leave for college next month, and her future absence already left a void.

Thinking about it made her feel knotted up inside. That's why she'd decided to make today the deadline day. Everyone thought she was made of nerves because she was confessing to her musical idol.

In reality, she had no idea how to tell Kim she'd been in love with her since they were six.

Out front, the door chimed, and Patty's sweet-yet-disconcertingly-loud voice blasted through the intercom.

"THE SKULL IS OFFICIALLY OPEN, SO WRAP UP THE KISSY-FACE AND GET YOUR CUTE BUTTS OUT HERE, PLEEEEAAAASE."

The spell of awkwardness broken, Soul and Jackie trailed out into the storefront and took up their battle positions. No red alerts yet. Just the morning regulars trickling in. Kilik and Tsubaki waved as they headed back toward the game corner to play Rock Band, which they considered practice for their real-life rock band. Harvar and Ox were arguing near the new releases about the superiority of Apple versus Droid again. A few new faces milled about, listening to the samples in the booth or testing out the electronics.

Patty rang up the first purchase of the day right as Black Star kicked the front door open and strolled in like he wasn't over an hour late, blue hair flat on one side like he'd literally just rolled out of the backseat of his car where he'd been sleeping.

"Nice of you to show up, King Jackass," Kim said, throwing a rubber stress ball at his head.

Star caught the ball in midair and whipped off his sunglasses with the other hand, using them to point at her. "I appreciate the warm welcome, faithful subject. Coffee me."

Soul intervened before Kim could rifle another random object at her coworker's skull. "Where have you been, man? You look like hell."

"I went to Vegas last night, compadre," Black Star said, snapping his fingers in a continued bid for coffee. Thankfully, Patty was an actual angel and slipped one into his hand seconds later. He took a big swig and squinted through tears as it burned his tongue.

"Oh yeah," he wheezed. "That's the good stuff."

"You went to Vegas?" Soul said incredulously. "The fuck for, dude?"

"Not your concern, peon." Star replaced his sunglasses and took another drink.

Jackie stepped in. "We covered for you this morning, jerk. Did you at least win something?"

"I won the genetic lottery with these guns," he said, flexing for the crew. "But if you are referring to cash, no, I did not win any cash. Speaking of cash, do any of you know how to raise a bunch of it in, say, twelve hours?"

Soul raised an eyebrow. "You think we'd be working here if we did?"

"Excellent point, my friend," Black Star said. "But if you do think of anything, let a brother know." He swigged the rest of his coffee and shrugged off his jacket as he headed to the stockroom.

The others watched him go.

"What the hell was that about?" Jackie asked. "Think he owes a loan shark or something?"

Kim snorted. "Loan sharking only works if you can intimidate you mark, and that fool is impossible to intimidate. Mostly because he thinks he's made of steel."

Soul picked up a box of misplaced stock from behind the counter and went to put it back. "I'm not so sure he isn't made of steel. I think I still have a bruise from that time I agreed to play basketball with him."

Ox chose that moment to slap his hands down on the counter to attract Kim and Patty's attention.

"What can I do for you, buddy?" Patty chirped.

"I'm in need of a tie-breaking vote, for this troglodyte insists the clearly inferior MacBook is the better laptop." Ox waved his hand in the direction of Harvar, who leaned against the Hamilton display looking bored. "Surely you can help me convince him a Samsung Notebook would be a wiser purchase."

Kim rested on the counter in front of him on her elbows. "Dude. Why do you always talk like a banker from the 1850s? Just ask your question."

Ox swallowed. He'd always had a soft spot for Kim, and all present knew it. Jackie busied herself checking online orders so she could avoid looking at them.

"Fine," he acquiesced. "Apple or Microsoft?"

"Apple," echoed everyone in earshot.

Ox sputtered and shook his head. "So easily swayed by glass and chrome, all of you."

Harvar adjusted his dark visor and shrugged. "It's really not our fault that our iPhone screens are brighter than our futures. They dull the pain."

 "Okay, first, speak for yourself," Kim said, pointing at Harvar. To Ox, she said, "Second, at least Apple doesn't have to name their operating system after dessert to get you to try it."

Soul breathed a soft laugh as he adjusted his box of merch and continued on to the hip-hop section. With the practiced ease of someone all-too-familiar with menial tasks like alphabetizing CDs and digital download codes, he flipped through the plastic boxes where the music lived and put everything in its proper place. Sigh. Twenty-one years old and spending his time filing Pitbull and Chance the Rapper albums with no other prospects on the horizon. Wouldn't his mother be proud.

Not like he cared what his parents thought anymore. Except when he did.

A little girl in pigtails and an overlarge army coat bumped into him so hard that they both stumbled. He glared at her and curled his lip, his customer service instincts just barely keeping him from saying something Kid would yell at him for later.

"Sorry," the girl said, avoiding his eyes and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she brushed past him more carefully this time. Her other hand stayed firmly lodged in her coat pocket.

Soul slow-blinked and watched her go down the aisle toward the back of the shop. He'd thought she was a tween until he got a better look at her, but she was probably closer to his age. Though the pigtails and curled-in shoulders had fooled him at first, she was taller and older than she looked. There was something off about her, though, and he had a hunch about what it was as he watched her look left to right before skulking to another section.

He narrowed his eyes and set his box down, following her with catlike steps. She passed the classical and jazz sections, much to his chagrin, and turned into the next aisle without noticing him. Patty, who'd taken to wiping down the windows up front while Kim manned the register, raised an eyebrow at him as he went by.

They'd been in retail long enough to have developed a communication method that consisted of glances and expressions, and Soul made one that clearly said, "Go get Black Star while I watch this chick."

Patty grinned and hopped down from her step ladder, skipping toward the storage room.

Pigtails lurked in the Trance section, pretending to look at CDs for way too long. Soul leaned up against a display and kept an eye out for Patty and Star, who were taking up positions at the other end of the aisle.

They watched and waited.

Sure enough, oblivious to her audience, the girl covertly slipped a CD into her pocket and Soul nodded to the others.

"WE GOT A LIVE ONE, FOLKS," Black Star yelled as he made a running dash toward Pigtails. She jumped and went wide-eyed like a spooked deer.

Soul took a more casual approach, sauntering toward her and fully expecting her to run smack into him, panic, and probably start crying or something. When she turned and saw him, he braced for her.

Unfortunately, he hadn't expected a roundhouse kick to the side of the head, but that's what he got. Girl's legs were _long._

"Whathefuck," Soul warbled as he fell directly into the display he'd been leaning against earlier. A rainbow array of headphones went flying through the air like Silly String. By the time he shook his brain back into place and adjusted his aching jaw, he saw that she'd nearly made it to the door.

Kilik stood in her way and she skidded to a halt, her buckled black boots making marks on the freshly Swiffered floor. He held out his hands like he could calm her by sheer force of will. "Come on, girl, don't make me tackle you for these losers."

"Okay, I won't," the girl gasped before sweeping his leg.

She'd almost made it to freedom when Patty clotheslined her directly across the chest and she slammed to the floor, flat on her back.

 "Tch," Patty said, looking down on the girl with her hands on her hips. "This is fun, but you should really pay first."

Whoever this girl was, she was quicker on the uptake than any of them gave her credit for. In an instant, she rolled into a crouch, prepared to sprint toward the rear of the store.

Unfortunately, a blue-haired obstacle blocked her path.

Black Star stood poised at the end of the aisle, cracking his knuckles and grinning wide.

"I like the cut of your jib, kid," he said as he planted his feet. "Come at me. Dare you."

Never was there a look of more pissed off determination than was on Pigtails' face in that moment. Her muscles coiled, ready to spring.

"We've got a battle of the shitheads in the Alternative aisle, folks," Kim said over the intercom for the benefit of the whole store. "Keep your hands and feet clear, please. We have limited liability."

The shitheads in question locked eyes across the distance, green mirroring green. Spectators took a collective step back.

Then she was off, dashing past the cartons of records and CDs full-tilt, and Star hunkered down to meet her.

It was the collision heard 'round the record store.


	3. The harbinger of my doom

In the end, it took Soul, Black Star, Patty, and Kilik to wrangle the petty thief and get her locked up in Kid's office.

"This is illegal," she yelled, banging her fist against the large window. "You can't keep me in here against my will. I have rights!"

"You wanna talk about rights?" Soul yelled back, nearly nose to nose with her through the glass. "How about my right not to _bleed from the fucking ear_ , how about that, you asshole?"

"I was defending myself," she retorted.

"From what, the deadly retail employee I'm-just-doing-my-job slouch?" he said.

"Soul." Jackie shoved a bag of ice wrapped in a rag against his head. "Go sit down over there and calm down."

He held the cold pack against his ear. "You're telling _me_ to calm down? What about this wannabe lightweight UFC contender?"

"Hey!" she said. "I am not a lightweight!"

" _Shut up you are like a doll person_ ," he hissed.

Jackie rolled her eyes and pointed toward the break room couch. With much grumbling and swearing, Soul skulked away and Jackie turned her attention toward the shoplifter, crossing her arms and looking her up and down.

Something about the girl screamed familiarity. Maybe it was the plaid skirt, or the carefully pleated hair, or the determinedly-set jaw of a fellow overachiever. Whatever it was, Jackie felt it in her bones. This girl didn't do this as a rule.

"You wanna talk about it?" Jackie asked.

The girl huffed and gave her a disdainful look before turning away and canvassing the office for escape routes. "We're not friends. Seriously, you guys can't keep me here."

"It's well within our rights to detain shoplifters until law enforcement gets here to deal with them."

At the word "shoplifters," the girl flinched. Just barely.

"What's your name?"  Jackie asked.

The girl chewed her tongue for a few seconds before replying, "Maka Albarn."

"Maka Albastard," Soul called from the couch.

Jackie ignored him. "Call it a hunch, Maka, but I doubt you've stolen more than a cookie from your grandma before. Am I right?"

Maka shifted from foot to foot and didn't answer.

"Look," Jackie said. "I'm not being friendly, I'd just rather not call the cops. We have a celebrity guest arriving soon and I don't need the hassle. If it's all the same to you, I won't call it in until the boss gets here and decides what to do with you. Cool?"

"Yeah," Maka said, inclining her head. "Cool."

Black Star chose that moment to enter the break room and throw an arm around Jackie's shoulders. He leaned forward to tap on the glass.

"Crikey, it's a massive stick insect," he said in the worst Steve Irwin impression in the world. "Careful now, I think she might bite. What a beauty."

"I'll break your nose next time," Maka said.

Star's grin was partially covered with the bloodied tissue jammed up one nostril. "I look forward to it. I like spunk."

Maka cocked an eyebrow. "Is that what you use to gel your hair?"

"Oh, nice," Black Star said. "Very nice. Primo insult game. I like her."

"I hate her," Soul said.

"No one cares, buck the hell up," Jackie said. "Where is Kid? He's late. He's never late. And today of all days."

Black Star disentangled his arm and stood straight. "No idea. Weird. So weird. Bye."

As he hightailed it from the room, Jackie looked over her shoulder at Soul. "What's with everyone today?"

"What's with today, today," Soul muttered. "I think she broke one of those tiny bones in my ear. The hammer one. Or the sickle. There's a sickle bone, right?"

Patty chose that moment to poke her bobbed blonde head through the door. "Guys, stop flirting, there are Olds out here. So many Olds. Help."

Soul abandoned his ice pack and he and Jackie went back out front to come to Patty's aid. The usual regulars were peppered throughout the store, but now there was a definite spike in customers, most of whom looked to be in the age range of their parents.

With a prolonged sigh, Soul said, "Looks like the Ragnarok Fanclub has arrived. You still want to play this game?"

"Oh, come on," Jackie said, dragging him by the sleeve.

Soul joined Black Star, who was attempting to wrangle a gaggle of starry eyed women back outside.

"Line to see the masked weirdo forms outside, ladies, let's go," Black Star said as they directed them to form a queue along the front of the building and down the block.

Jackie went to help Kim at the register where she was trying to ring up three people at once. Jackie squeezed past to the extra register, biting her lip as she tried to ignore Kim's mint-gum-and-lavender-shampoo smell. She always smelled like joy bitten through with cynicism.

They finished checking out the waiting group of people purchasing Ragnarok's autobiography (entitled _This Badass Don't Need No Friends_ , CD of the same name included) and Kim huffed and leaned against the counter, arching her back in the way that always made heat raise the hairs on the back of Jackie's neck.

"Hey," Jackie said, pretending to count the number of twenties in her till. "When we take our break later, there's something I want to talk to you about, okay?"

She risked a glance at her friend and caught Kim's aquamarine eyes narrowing just slightly as she popped her gum.

"Gods," Kim said. "You're not going to, like, offer yourself to him, are you? I'm not going to give you cherry-popping advice."

Jackie slammed the till shut on her finger. " _Ow._ " She could feel her blood pulsing under the skin of her cheeks. "Of course I'm not going to... Jesus, Kim, we don't all do _that._ "

Kim stopped chewing and narrowed her eyes further. "Do what, exactly?"

Great, now she'd stepped in it. "That's not what I meant, you know I don't care. I just don't want... can we drop it?"

"Sure," Kim scoffed, pulling out her flask.

Black Star chose that moment to whiz by and loudly declare that the folks lining up outside were "fucking banana sandwiches" and that he was going to get more stock.

The interruption gave Kim time to take a swig and store her flask away.

Jackie loosed a shuddering sigh and closed her eyes. Today was the day. It had to be the day. It would be perfect. She'd made all those damn cupcakes. It had to be perfect.

Her mouth got away from her. "I wish you wouldn't do that at work," she said.

"I wish you'd get the bug out of your ass," Kim muttered as she hopped the counter and strolled toward the back room.

Damn it. Jackie clenched her fists until she felt the sting of nails against her palm. Something was in the air today. It felt thick with tension, like a single pluck could snap it like an overtightened violin string.

That was stupid. It was just another day.

Soul rapped his knuckles against the counter and snapped her out of her reverie.

"Trouble in paradise?" he said.

"Shut up," Jackie said.

He shrugged. "Hey, did Liz call in? She was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago."

"Uh." Jackie looked around and called out, "Patty, did Liz text you?"

A blonde head popped out from behind the Ragnarok display. "No, why?"

Jackie didn't get a chance to answer because Kid chose that moment to kick the front doors open and they bounced off the interior walls with a resounding thud. Macabre Records' owner stood stiff as a board, his usually perfect hair slightly out of place and his fists clenched at his sides. His nostrils flared with alarming symmetry.

"Kid?" Patty chirped across the suddenly silent shop. "You okay?"

"I'm not okay, Patricia," he responded, his voice deadly quiet. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Jackie asked.

"The harbinger of my doom. The most ridiculous of empty-headed assholes. The fool who's replaced his brain with Muscle Milk," Kid said. "Where is he?"

"Yo," Black Star said from the back. "You mean me?"

Kid's golden eyes landed on him with laser focus.

"I can explain, man," Star said. "Swearsies."

Without a word, Kid stamped toward the subject of his ire, fists balled at his sides until he was close enough to grab Black Star by the shirt and forcefully drag him into the back. The employees and customers shared a series of curious looks that pinged around the room like pinballs.

"Better go see what that's about," Soul said.

"I'll come with you," Kim said. "For backup."

Jackie moved to follow, but Patty grabbed her by the back of the cardigan and held her in place.

"Nuh uh," the blonde said. "You gotta help me man the fort out here."

By the time Kim and Soul made it to the break room doorway and peered inside, they just managed to hear the tail end of Kid's feverish whispered ass-grilling.

" - care where it is, you get the hell out of here and get it back. Today. Now. Immediately."

Star scratched the back of his head. "Can't do it, Jefe."

A vein at Kid's temple popped up beneath his skin and Kim dug her nails into Soul's arm. He barely managed to stifle his yelp.

Kid clenched and unclenched his fists, the silver skull rings on each of his middle fingers glinting in the yellowish light.

He spoke very slowly, enunciating each word carefully. "What do you mean you can't do it?"

"I mean unless you want to build me my very own Star's Eleven team, I can't pull a heist on Caesar's Palace. The money's gone, bro."

Kid's eye started to twitch.

"You took. The money. To Vegas."

"I was up so much, too," Black Star said, staring wistfully into the distance and clearly unaware of his pending destruction. "Dedicated the last bet to you. Eight black. Maybe you're bad luck."

"Hoshit," Kim whispered under her breath a millisecond before Kid snapped.

Anyone who came across Kid and saw a skinny weakling did so at their peril. The dude was much stronger than he looked, and every bit of that strength appeared to be concentrated in the fist he launched directly at Black Star's face.

On instinct, Star dodged to the side. "Dude, it's fine, I'll fix it."

"You'll fix it?!" Kid howled, his voice cracking. "Are you going to pull thirty-five grand out of your hollow skull in the next five minutes? Why don't I just break it open and find out?"

Kid grabbed up fistfuls of Black Star's shirt and slammed him against the nearest wall. This time when he wound up and let his fists fly, Star took the hits. In the doorway, Soul winced and cringed in sympathy, though he suspected his coworker wasn't so much failing to defend himself as refusing to.

Finally, Kid raised a shaking hand and let it fall to his side, staggering back and running his bruised fingers through his hair.

Black Star coughed and held his ribs with one hand. He grinned through his second bloody nose of the day. "Feel better now, boss?"

Kid shook his head. "No. No, I don't feel better. Nothing will make me feel better. Everything is ruined."

A sudden shove against Soul's back sent him stumbling into the room with Kim in tow. Patty and Jackie came in behind them.

"What's going on, Kiddo?" Patty asked.

A manic laugh escaped from Kid and ricocheted around the room. It put Soul on edge.

"Only the end of life as I know it, that's all. The destruction of my father's legacy. Your egocentric lughead of a colleague went and gambled away the last two weeks' earnings, plus the remainder of the emergency fund."

"Dude," Soul said to Black Star. "Very not cool."

"Very not cool indeed," Kid said. "I hope you all enjoy Ragnarok Day, because it might be the very last day Macabre Records ever gets to have."

The room went very still.

"What?" Jackie whispered. She sounded like she was having trouble breathing.

Kid waved his hands in the air. "You heard me. We're broke. I'm broke. There's nothing left. I have enough to pay you for the hours you've worked this week and then I'm cleaned out. The Gorgons have been breathing down my neck to sell and it was all I could do to keep them off my back. It's over. The Skull is deader than its mascot."

"That doesn't sound fun at all," Patty said.

Kim stepped forward. "Come on, Kid, you can't be serious. There's always a way, right? Don't they have bailouts or something for stuff like this? Or, like, insurance?"

"You can't insure against dipshit employees who think they're invincible," Kid said.

"There's gotta be something, man," Soul said. "I need this job."

Kid looked like whatever energy he had left drained away. "If you're all very lucky, maybe the Gorgons will see fit to keep you on after they turn this place into a warehouse or a fair trade coffee-and-booze bar or whatever the hell they have planned. In the meantime, I'll be in my office, wallowing and wondering where it all went wrong."

He walked to his office door, turning the key and slumping inside. The others stood, dumbfounded, and slowly turned as one to look at Black Star, who nonchalantly shoved more tissue up his nose.

"I thaid I've got it covered, guyth," he said. "Dunn worry. Trutht your god."

Kim started toward him, probably to kick him in the shin, but paused when Kid came scurrying out of his office and slammed the door behind him.

"Would someone care to tell me why you failed to mention the pigtailed polecat in my office?" he hissed.


	4. The best waste of space

Maka and Black Star sat on either side of the threadbare couch, the former leaned back with her arms crossed and the latter with his feet up on the boxes that served as tables. Kid stood in front of them massaging his temples and attempting to maintain some semblance of calm. Soul smirked.

"You gonna call the cops on a bro or what, dude?" Black Star said.

Kid took a deep breath and exhaled for an uncomfortably long time before glaring at his underling. "No, but not because you don't deserve it. Our guest will be here any minute and I can't have cops turning my office into a crime scene and borking up this event."

Maka, who had been pointedly looking at the ceiling, locked her eyes on him. "So I guess that means I'm free to go?"

"No way," Soul said, baring his teeth. "Kid, you can't just let her get away with this."

She sneered. "You're still just pissed that I got the drop on you."

"You are _made of suck_ ," Soul said.

Kid raised a hand for silence and the others reluctantly complied. He pointed at Black Star and said, "You will remain on this couch. You will not work, you will not pester the customers, you will stay exactly where you are. Your ass is officially glued to this furniture until I figure out what the hell I'm going to do with you. Got it?"

"Comprendo," Star said, settling in for what looked to be a solid nap.

"As for you," he said to Maka. "You're going to work off your debt today, since we're shorthanded. Shadow Soul, maintain the Ragnarok stock and do whatever else he needs you to."

"No fucking way," Soul and Maka said in unison.

"It's not a request," Kid snapped. "I will call the cops on _you_ tomorrow if you keep acting like a dick. Consider this an opportunity to keep your record clean."

"If you call the cops on me, I'll tell them all about your boy here," Maka said, gesturing to a now-snoring Black Star.

"Do what you want, you're the one I'll definitely press charges against," Kid said, throwing up his hands and storming off to his office.

It took a while for Maka and Soul to stop staring at the closed door and warily look at one another. They tested each other with silence.

Finally, Maka lowered her eyes to the floor and grumbled, "I'll work."

Soul heaved the most put-upon sigh in the world and went to go fetch the merchandise she'd lifted. He sorted through it and curled his lip.

"If I'm going to be stuck with you all day, we need to have a talk about your taste in music," he said, sorting through the stolen CDs. "I mean, look at this. Tiësto, Dubfire, Tiësto, Dubfire, and... Watsky?"

He held up the Watsky CD incredulously.

Maka huffed and crossed her arms, looking away. "It's for the person I'm seeing."

"Sure it is," Soul said. "I'm sorry they suck so much."

Black Star's leg twitched and he gave a snore that could be likened to an elephant with bad allergies. Maka shot up off the couch and looked around at him, scandalized. She shifted to the side and sighed as she reached up to pull the pigtails from her hair. Soul watched her out of the corner of his eye as he looked through the CDs again, convinced she would try to drop-kick him the second she saw the opening.

She held her hairbands between her teeth as she pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and Soul absolutely did not notice that she had a nice mouth. And anyway, even if she did, nice mouths and nice legs didn't make up for being an asshole and ruining his day. Not that she had nice legs, either.

"So," she said when she finished with her hair. "Tell me what to do so I can do it and get out of here."

Soul tossed the CDs onto the misplaced merch pile and slumped against the exposed post. "You can start by not talking. Your voice is like rusty nails inside my _damaged ear._ Come on."

The pair walked into the storefront with the air of two people who would spark if they touched, and not in a good rom-com kind of way.

Kim leaned over to Jackie and whispered in her ear. "I always knew Soul was a moody hedgehog, but I didn't think he'd find a moodier hedgehog to spar with."

Jackie tightened her grip on the cash she was counting and shivered. She bit her lip before responding, "A lid for every pot, I guess."

"Heh." Kim smirked. "Not jealous?"

"Hardly," Jackie said. "I've told you a thousand times he's not my type."

"But Ragnarok is."

Jackie's fingers paused and she slowly looked up into Kim's eyes. Swallowed. Took a breath.

And was interrupted yet again by the front door of the shop slamming open.

A tall blonde with immaculately manicured nails and a death glare strode into the shop, her gaze laser focused on something no one else could see.

"Hey, Liz, you're late," Kim called. "You get last dibs on the chore board, it's in the... okay."

Kim trailed off as Liz strode by the checkout without so much as a glance of acknowledgement and continued straight into the back. The air in her wake felt tense and dark.

From the top of the ladder where she cleaned the upper windows, Patty looked after her big sister, her near-permanent smile threatening to slide off her face.

"I'll go see what's up with her," she said, the usual sing-song absent from her voice.

With her hands clasped behind her back, Patty skipped just until she was out of view of the others before letting her cheery facade crack, concern knitting her brow together. She approached the bright green door of the employee bathroom and pressed her ear against it.

"Sis?" she called. "Kid will yell at me if I jimmy the lock on this door again, so how 'bout you just let me in, okay?"

Silence from the other side of the door.

Patty breathed in deep and held her breath. Thoughts were creeping up her spine. Bad thoughts. Did she do something wrong this morning? Had she left cold coffee in the pot last night? Liz hated when she did that.

Patty hated the quiet, and it kept stretching on and on and on until she couldn't stand it, digging her nails beneath the peeling band stickers on the door.

"What'd I do, Sis? You can tell me, I'll fix it."

Seconds later the door cracked open and Liz grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the bathroom. Before Patty could ask again, her big sister wrapped her in a full-body hug.

"Honey, it's not you. You're fine," Liz said, her voice tearful. "I'm sorry for making you worry."

 Patty wrapped her hands around Liz's arms. "What's the matter, then? You can tell me."

Liz sighed and let her sister go, sinking down against the wall and pushing the door closed again. Patty followed suit until she could stretch her legs out and sway her feet to and fro. Her Converse sported pink and red roses and they matched her perfectly.

It took a while for Liz to swallow back her angry tears and look at Patty.

"Mom came by the apartment this morning after you left," Liz said.

Patty's feet stopped moving. "Oh," she responded.

"Yeah. Don't worry, I kicked her out before she managed to find the cash jar."

"What'd she want?" Patty asked as she picked at her nails and pretended not to care.

Liz drew her knees up to her chest. "She wanted to call me a disappointing waste of space and try to steal the car again, of course."

"Sissy." Patty put her arm around Liz's shoulders and pulled her close. "You are the best waste of space."

Liz gave a watery laugh. When she sobered, she said, "I've raised you right, haven't I?"

"I'm a successful disk jockey because of you," Patty chirped.

"That's not what a disk jockey is, babe."

"Oh. Well, you know what I mean. I wouldn't be here without you, you know that."

Liz squeezed her knee and looked her in the face. "Don't say that."

"It's true, deal with it," Patty said with a grin.

"Mom says I shouldn't have taken you to that doctor. That you don't need lithium and I'm setting you up to fail."

Patty's fingers rubbed down the inside of her forearm, feeling the raised scar at her wrist. "Well Mom can eat an entire bag of dicks because she's wrong. If she wanted to hook up with those Scientolo-whatever people because she reads the tabloids, that's her deal, but taking me to that shrink saved my life. Don't you forget it, 'kay?"

"Yeah." Liz laced her fingers through her sister's. "I'll try. I just hate it when she pops up in our lives unannounced. She always makes me feel like every inch of the high school dropout loser that I am."

"She graduated from a JC and all she has to show for it is an asshole degree," Patty said.

Liz snorted. "It's an Associate's Degree."

"I said what I said."

A sharp bang on the door made them both jump.

"It's a bathroom, not the Red Tent," Black Star yelled through the wood. "Get out. I'm coming in either way. You have three seconds."

The pair paused long enough to roll their eyes at each other before standing and exiting the bathroom. Liz made sure to give Star her most intense Evil Eye while Patty clapped him on the back and wished him a happy piss. They both noticed the couch cushion under his arm, but neither commented.

Before they went back out to join the others, Patty held Liz back. She put her hands on her shoulders, looked her sister square in the eye, and said, "You are _my_ loser, and don't you forget it."

As her sister bounced off into the milling crowd of customers, Liz thought that even if her mom made her consistently feel like shit, she could always feel at least a little better when she looked at Patty.

The moment was broken when Kid grabbed her by the elbow and started to scold her about being late. He'd really started to hit his stride when the distant chiming of the bell above the door brought Kim hustling to his side.

"Kid," Kim said, tugging his coat sleeve.

"Not now, can't you see I'm managing?" Kid snapped. "Someone has to keep you all in line."

"Sure, sure," Kim said. "But you might want to manage the fancy-ass car that just pulled up outside. I think it may be our guests."

"What?" Kid dashed for the door and peered through a sea of shrieking middle-aged fans to find that a black sedan with tinted windows had indeed pulled up to the curb. The front passenger window cracked open enough for him to spot a pair of worried gray eyes peering through.

"Gods in Heaven and Hell, what did I do? Did I accidentally piss in your oatmeal on the astral plane? Why must you punish me this way?" he muttered.

"Should I go...?" Jackie started. Her fingers were shaking with nerves and she twisted them together as her eyes darted toward the door.

"Absolutely not," Kid said. He pointed toward the break room. "Liz, man the registers and consider our conversation postponed. The rest of you, get in the back and make sure it's presentable enough for royalty in the next five minutes."

Soul, who was stapling music fliers to the corkboard while Maka held them out for him, removed the marker from between his teeth and said, "Performing miracles is not in my job description. You put me on delinquent duty, remember?"

Kid turned his golden eyes on the group and said, "At least pretend you're interested in saving your own asses if you aren't interested in saving mine."

Soul sighed and hopped down off his step ladder. To Maka, he said, "Come on, bad element, let's go perform a miracle."

Jackie cast a furtive glance at Kid before following.

A refrain of just breathe just breathe just breathe played in Kid's head as he plastered on his biggest megawatt grin and went out to greet Ragnarok and tell him in the most genial way to drive the fuck around to the back alley.


	5. I contain multitudes

Liz blew a stubborn strand of hair out of her eyes as she switched her drawer into the register. Counting the cash would be a mess later, but that was hardly a surprise when Patty and Kim were taking turns at the service desk.

The drawer slid into place with a clack just as someone approached the desk.

She plastered on her customer service smile. "Hi, how can I help... oh. Hey, Tsu."

Tsubaki came around the side of the counter and leaned against it with her signature sweet smile. "Hi. You okay?"

A few younger customers did a double take at the pair of them, but didn't come over. They tended to save their fanning for Wes. He was the star, always had been.

Liz let out a puff of air and briefly considered lying, but Tsu always seemed to know. She'd never pry, but she'd know.

"I'm better now," Liz said. "Rough morning." There. That wasn't exactly a lie.

Tsu reached out a gentle hand and laid it on Liz's arm. Her nails were perfectly painted with the sheerest layer of pastel pink. Liz was pretty sure it was the shade she'd borrowed from her last year.

"We miss you, you know," Tsubaki said. "You could come back anytime."

"Sure," Liz laughed. "Who doesn't want to play second fiddle to her ex-boyfriend?"

"I haven't played the violin since college, so you'd be playing first fiddle, really," said a voice from behind her.

Liz closed her eyes, took a breath, and turned around.

"Wes, what are you doing here?" she said. She felt Tsu's fingers slip away.

Her tall, handsome, towheaded ex stood with his weight on one foot. As always, he had the air of the most confident person in the room, even when he looked ridiculous with his mirrored sunglasses and a black hoodie pulled over his hair. He flashed her a show-stopping grin. Used to get her every time.

Now it just made her sad.

"Tsu's right, you know. We do miss you."

"You look like a starlet after a bad bender," Liz said, turning back to the cash drawer.

"Hey, I didn't come to fight, promise," Wes said, and she knew it was true. Wes wasn't a bad guy. He hadn't even been a bad boyfriend.

He just happened to be lead guitar in one of the most recently popular indie rock bands in the country. Things like that tended to put a relationship under glass. She hadn't been able to cut it. Not as lead singer, not as the wrong-side-of-the-tracks girlfriend. It was all a fun rush before the debut album dropped, but when they suddenly started getting calls for a national tour, she'd bailed.

Wes had always been too good for her, in talent and in upbringing. It was plain as a slut during a 6am walk of shame, as her mother would say.

Her mother said a lot of things.

Liz swallowed, still staring at her register. "Why did you come? You know Kid will kill you if he finds out you showed up here today."

Wes scoffed. "What, and steal Ragnarok's thunder? Like I could. That guy is kind of a big deal, if you hadn't heard." He waggled his eyebrows. "Besides, I'm here incognito."

A smile ticked up the corner of her mouth. She couldn't help it. Wes was a charmer, unlike his prickly little brother. If the shop weren't swarming with middle-aged fans waiting for a look at their favorite dickhead rock star, he'd have been spotted already. Thankfully, most of the younger crowd was steering clear today.

Wes tilted his chin down and peered at her over his glasses, flashing his pale blue eyes at her. "I did come here to ask you back, though. To the band, I mean."

"Wes," Liz sighed, shaking her head.

He raised a hand. "Just hear me out, okay? Finding a new lead has been miserable. We've been on hiatus for months and my agent is breathing down my neck. More than that, though, it just hasn't been the same without you. We're missing a piece. Please? Will you think about it?"

The aching burn of tears prickled at Liz's eyes and she blinked it away. She'd cried enough today.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Find yourself a new lead. I meant it when I told you I was out."

Wes opened his mouth to argue, but Tsubaki said, "Let it go."

Liz nodded in appreciation.

If Wes had more to say, he didn't get the chance before he was waylaid by a similarly towheaded shop employee. Soul dragged him to a dusty corner full of music books by his sweatshirt, grumbling all the while. When Wes finally managed to shrug him off, they were out of view of the rest of the store. Maka, still tailing Soul, looked around at Wes curiously.

"Wes, what the fuck," Soul said.

"Nice to see you too." Wes dusted off his shoulder and removed his sunglasses. A tuft of silvery blonde hair peeked out of his hoodie.

Maka frowned. "Why do you look familiar?"

Soul dismissed her question with a wave of his hand. "I reiterate my 'what the fuck.'"

"You'll have to be more specific. Why do _you_ look familiar?" he said to Maka, tilting his head to get a better look at her.

"Today of all days?" Soul said. "You couldn't come get your fan fix tomorrow when you're not competing with another minor celebrity?"

"You probably shouldn't yell at your celebrity guests," Maka said, still looking Wes up and down. "I don't know why the boss is having me shadow the guy with negative customer service skills."

Soul snapped, "Did I ask the petty thief? I did not."

Wes replaced his sunglasses. "Rude, little brother. Besides, Ragnarok's not a minor celebrity. He has way more YouTube subscribers than I do."

Maka, who had her eyes narrowed like she was trying to see the sailboat on a shitty Magic Eye poster, opened her mouth in a silent gasp and pointed at Wes.

"Oh my gods," she said.

"Don't," Soul warned.

"He's Westin Evans. You're Westin Evans!"

"Guilty," Wes said with a winning grin.

"The guitarist for San Den See is your brother?" Maka said to Soul.

Soul groaned and put a hand over his face. "Figures the girl with terrible taste in music would still know your band."

"Ouch," Wes said, hand to his chest.

"Whatever, I can't have you here today. Go visit mom or something." He moved to herd Wes out of the way, but Wes held him back and pointed at Maka.

"Wait. I _do_ recognize you. Did you used to live in the apartments near Chupa Cabra's?" he asked.

Soul felt her stiffen beside him. "Yeah," she said. "Why?"

Wes snapped his fingers. "Knew it. Your dad used to do security for my parents' events. He asked me to babysit sometimes. Maka, right?"

She blinked. "Oh wow. I'd forgotten. That was you?" She put her hands to her mouth. "Oh my gods, Westin Evans used to babysit me. Can I get a picture?"

"Sure, I --"

Soul stood between them and forced them apart. " _No pictures,_ are you kidding me? This is the worst day of my life and you're both to blame. I hope you're happy."

Wes pinched the skin between his thumb and forefinger and Soul swore as he twisted away.

"I seem to recall you sharing your stuffed animals with this one the one day I brought him," Wes said.

"That's a lie and I will smack it out of your mouth," Soul said through gritted teeth.

Wes shrugged. "It was adorable. How'd you two hook up again?"

"She's a criminal in training, I'm the sucker who came to work today. That's the story. Bye, Wes."

With another shrug, Wes adjusted his hoodie and headed out through the throngs of people. Soul watched him go, glowering from under his choppy bangs. Once he was sure his brother was no longer in danger of being spotted and causing a miniature chaos storm, he turned toward the back and clucked his tongue for Maka to follow.

"I'm not a dog," Maka snapped.

"No, but considering I'm not pressing charges for the assault and battery, I'm gonna do what I want, thanks." He wove between the eager customers toward the break room.

Maka kept close behind him. "What's with you and your brother, anyway? He seemed nice."

Soul curled his lip. "He's great. The greatest. That what you want to hear?"

She huffed. "Are you just mad because he's prettier than you?"

He stopped dead and she ran into his back, squawking. She nearly gave him another verbal kick upside the head, but the words died in her mouth when she saw him looking sidelong at her. He wasn't angry, he was... what was it? It looked like disappointment.

Or hurt. It was hard to tell his expressions apart.

"S-sorry," she said. "You're very pretty, too. Can we just. Go?"

Without a word, he turned and kept walking.

The break room was full of the entire staff, save Liz. Soul and Maka snuck around near Black Star, who stood with his arms crossed and one leg planted firmly on the couch. Kim and Patty whispered nearby while Jackie stood front and center, nervously tucking and untucking a strand of hair behind her ear. One of her platters of cupcakes sat on a nearby box. She reached out to turn one slightly, then turned it back.

The door cracked open and Kid slipped his skinny form into the room. "We ready?" he said.

"Sure," Soul said.

Jackie smacked him in the gut. "We're good to go."

"That's good, because he --"

Kid fell through the doorway as a massive form forced his way in behind him, spreading his arms wide and grinning through his signature mask.

"He has arrived," Ragnarok said, holding his arms out wide and looking as though he expected applause, which Jackie gave him, jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

Soul rolled his eyes. He glanced to the side and saw Kim give him a "tell me about it" look.

If only she knew.

In the rock star's wake, a tall, slender figure with lavender hair slipped inside. They wore a smart black and white suit and held a clipboard, nervously fiddling with the pages.

"Thank you for having us," the newcomer said. "We're so honored to make an --"

"Those for me, sweetheart?" Ragnarok said, cozying up to Jackie and leaning over her to grab a cupcake. "Always said I'd eat myself if I could."

"Y-yes," Jackie stammered. "Take as many as you like, please. I'm such a big fan."

Her cheeks were going pink and Ragnarok's grin widened.

"I do love it when my fans are all domestic-y," he said.

Soul and Black Star both were a breath away from stepping in when Kim got there first.

"Hey, Big Guy," she said, smiling devilishly and pulling him away by the arm. "Why don't we get you set up with that water you like before we throw you to the crowd, huh?"

"Oh, I like you, too," he said. He crammed a bite of cupcake in his mouth and barely swallowed before adding, "So pink."

Kim wiped a crumb off her cheek and led him to the other room, and based on the level of boiling rage in her green eyes, Soul was 99.999% sure he was going to leave here pickpocketed clean. Couldn't say he felt too bad about it.

Black Star pointed a finger gun at the closed storage room door, where they'd set up a makeshift ready room.

"That dude," he said. "Is a bag full of dicks. Takes one to know one."

"Yeah, you'd know," Soul said, his gaze going to Jackie. Now she was worrying the discarded cupcake wrapper. Her hands were shaking.

Soul furrowed his brow and went to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. You okay?"

Jackie looked at him with glossy eyes, her cheeks still colored. "I don't think I can do this. Did you see that? My skin is crawling."

"You don't have to, you know," Soul said. "You can stop pretending."

She shook her head, gulping. "Not yet. I'm not ready."

Soul scratched the back of his neck and cast a furtive look at Maka, who was hovering near his elbow.

"If you need me," he said to Jackie.

He didn't need to finish the thought. She nodded and gave him a watery smile.

When he signaled Maka to come with him back out front to finish prepping the signing table for Ragnarok, she followed without complaint. As Soul hefted a box of books onto the table and cut it open, she spoke so quietly he barely heard her.

"What?" he said.

"You were so nice. Back there. I wasn't sure you could be," she said, not meeting his eye as he handed her books to stack.

He snorted. "You've known me for like five minutes. I contain multitudes."

"According to your brother, we've known each other for like fifteen years." She looked up at him then, expression serious.

"I think I'd remember being annoyed by you when I was a kid," he said. The book stack was exact, he noticed. She was careful. Kid would be proud.

She pulled up the sleeve of her huge army jacket, revealing a slender wrist with smooth skin.

"Maybe you should try being less surly more often," she said. "It suits you."

He paused in his unpacking, swallowing. "I'll think about it." He looked up at the crowd and sighed. "I hate making announcements."

The sound of metal scraping against concrete startled him and he turned to find her dragging a chair across the floor. She stomped on top of it in her clunky boots and put her hands to her mouth like a megaphone.

"Hey, everyone, the star has arrived." She paused for a cheer. "Please line up in an orderly fashion and he'll be out momentarily!"

The cheers turned to an excited buzz as she climbed down . Soul stared at her.

"What?" she said, swinging her arms. "Now you don't have to do it."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Thanks. Now we just have to go back and... shit."

"Uh," she said. "I don't have to?"

He made a _tch_ sound and said. "That's not what I meant. We've got trouble."

He pointed at the door with his pinky and Maka looked to see three impeccably dressed and beautiful women fanning out to explore the shop, looking at the wares like they were covered in mold. One of the women reached out to wipe dust off a display, rubbing her gloved fingers together and wrinkling her nose.

"The witches are here," Soul said. "You go tell Kid. I'll head them off."

"I'm supposed to tell them three witches just walked in the door?" she called after his retreating back.

"He'll know what it means," he said over his shoulder.

Maka pursed her lips in confusion but went off to find the manager nonetheless. In the break room, Black Star was draped over the couch again, snoring with his mouth open. She briefly considered checking the bathroom for cotton balls to stuff in there but decided against it. Kid was nowhere to be found, but she could hear the cackling laugh of that Ragnarok guy inside. Tentatively she knocked on the door. It cracked open and a pair of gray eyes peered out.

"Yes?" It was the assistant from before, a slight figure with lavender hair and a permanently sad expression.

"Uh, hi. I'm Maka?" she tried, holding out her hand.

"Oh, yes," the assistant said, gripping her hand gently. "Crona. May I help you?"

"I'm actually looking for the manager?" she said. "Kid, I think?"

"Right, just a moment." Crona vanished back behind the door and was soon replaced by the skinny manager, who gave a painfully fake laugh before closing the door and whirling on her.

"What now?" he said, resignation in his eyes.

"Soul said to tell you the witches are here. He said you'd know what that means."

Very slowly, Kid raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was the picture of the burdened overseer as he took three deep breaths before replying to her.

"All three of them?" he said, voice eerily calm.

"Yeah."

"Godsdamnit." He lowered his hand to snap his fingers. "With me. Wake Black Star, if you would."

"Sure," she said, aiming a solid punch at the napping employee's arm.

"hhhhhhhHHNNNNHHHG THE FUCK," he yelled, coming out of a snore and cracking open an eye. "No respect."

"We have a Gorgon situation," Kid said. "Monitor it."

"Can't leave the couch, Jefe. Your orders."

Kid flicked him in the ear. "Then monitor the situation _from the couch,_ you bane of my existence."

"The main bane, huh?" Star put his hands behind his head. "I'm moving up in the world." He got up and kept one foot on an arm of the couch, hopping around until he could peer through the open door. With a nod, he said. "Got your back."

"I'm saved," Kid said in monotone, gesturing for Maka to accompany him as they headed toward the trio of women.

Maka had to admit that Soul's grumbling inability to interact positively with customers was a boon in this situation. He used his entire lanky body to block the Gorgons near the door, shifting to herd one or the other anytime they tried to move.

"I told you, just let me know what you're looking for and I'll get it," he said in his most convincingly bored retail drawl. He shifted slightly to the left to block the shortest sister from getting by. "Always happy to help."

Kid cleared his throat behind him. "Is there a problem?"

The tallest sister, the one with dark woven hair and kohl eye makeup, pushed Soul aside with a firm hand to the arm. "So good to see you," she said to Kid.

He nodded. "Arachne. I'm afraid I can't say the same. We're having an event today."

"We noticed," purred the petite blonde sister. Maka didn't like the look of her eyes. Golden brown and snakelike. "Maybe we ought to stay for an autograph."

Kid tensed then forced himself to relax. "It's a ticketed event. We've been sold out for a week."

"Oh, come on," said the third sister, resting a delicate hand on his chest. She threw her long braid over her shoulder, revealing a scorpion earring dangling from one ear. "Surely you can make an exception for your benefactors?"

Soul shot Kid a sidelong glance. Maka noticed his jaw tense and remembered that he'd said something about needing this job.

Gingerly, Kid removed the woman's hand. "I'm not receiving any benefits from you at the moment, thank you."

The blonde woman looked at the nearest wall, waving her hand. "That'd make a lovely place for an oxygen bar, don't you think, Shaula? Kids these days." She clucked her tongue. "So into those detoxifying highs."

"I think we should try hooka, Medusa," the sister with the braid said. "Kids gotta have their vices, too."

"I think the kids will have to deal with the Xbox in the corner," Kid said. "I'm going to ask you to leave."

Arachne stepped in front of the door, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "I think it's admirable of you to stick it out to the bitter end, but we all know how this is going to go. We've offered you a generous deal, market price. It'd be good of you to take it."

"No thank you," Kid said.

Shaula walked to a nearby display featuring signed records, running her finger down the shelf. She picked one up, admiring it. She looked up, meeting Kid's eye. "How's your insurance these days, anyway?"

Kid went very still. "Fine."

She tutted. "Not what I heard. Seems like one bad break-in could tip you right into bankruptcy."

The record tumbled out of her fingers and shattered on the floor. The crowd around them went quiet.

"Whoops," Shaula said.

"Hey!" Soul moved forward to shuffle her away from the rest of the records. "That was an $80 collector. You'd better be ready to pay for it."

"Sure," Medusa said, opening her pocketbook and sifting bills through her fingers. She threw four of them at Soul. "That should cover it, I think. Consider it an investment in our future business venture."

Without a thought, Maka stepped forward and pushed the woman so she thunked up against the glass. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Soul's jaw drop.

"I don't know who the hell you are, exactly, but I get the feeling that these customers might be interested to know you shake people down in broad daylight," Maka said, fists clenched at her sides.

Medusa looked over Maka's shoulder and smiled at the watching crowd. "We're just talking business, that's all. We'd love to help Macabre Records out in any way we can."

Maka looked for all the world like she was about to throw a hell of a punch, but someone's quiet, "Excuse me?" stayed her hand. She turned to find Crona putting a gentle hand on Kid's arm.

Crona pushed a strip of hair out of their eyes. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but Ragnarok is ready to start signing and he doesn't like to be kept..." They trailed off when they looked to the side and spotted Maka and Medusa, sucking in a quick breath.

"Oh," Crona said, eyes lowering to stare at their feet. "I, um. It's nice to s-see you, M-mother."

Kid's eyes went wide as he stared between the two. Mother? Ragnarok's assistant was a Gorgon? His mind automatically went to every worst case scenario. A spy? A plant? Gaining access to case the joint for a mysterious break-in?

Then he noticed something.

Almost imperceptibly, Medusa's lip curled. Her eyes narrowed and she looked Crona up and down, her distaste clear.

"I've told you not to call me that," she said.

Shaula chimed in, coming closer to put a finger under Crona's chin and lift it so she could look them in the face. "Sweetie, what are you doing here with the riff-raff?" she asked in a lilting tone that sounded anything but sincere.

"It's my j-job," Crona stammered. "I'm a personal assistant --"

"Ragnarok's glorified secretary, you mean," Medusa said, the disdain in her voice clear as she looked her child up and down. "I told him not to bother. You never were much good at taking direction."

Crona clamped their mouth shut, swallowing hard and picking at their nails absentmindedly.

Maka's blood reached the boiling point. She barely even knew Crona, but she knew they deserved better than this snake of a mother. She opened her mouth to say exactly that just before Kid beat her to it.

He strode past her until he was inches away from Medusa. His silver skull ring glinted as he pointed directly into her face.

"You." He said, then moved his pointing finger to the door. "Will leave my establishment. Immediately. Take your crones with you."

Arachne bristled at that. "How dare you --"

"I do not care." He turned his golden gaze on her. "Do what you will, but I would not sell this shop to you if it and I were on fire, and I will not allow you to insult my people or my guests on these premises. Get out."

The sisters' eyes each went dark with anger. Before they could respond, a tattered blue cushion rocketed past their heads and hit the door with a loud bang. All eyes turned to Black Star, framed in the break room doorway with one foot still resting on the couch.

He cupped his hands on either side of his mouth and called, "And stay out, ya goth-y hags."

"You'll regret that," Arachne murmured as she beckoned her sisters to follow. She turned on her heel and left.

"I'm sure I will," Kid said, suddenly lightheaded with his own daring.

Soul put a hand on his arm. "You all right?" he said.

"Not really, no," Kid said, leaning into him. "Remind me not to do that again."

Before Soul could agree, an echoing whoop ricocheted around the shop as a towering Ragnarok exited toward the waiting table, arms and grin stretched wide.

"I tried to warn you," Crona said in a frantic whisper just before the crowd at the door went wild.


	6. You guys flirt weird

Soul didn't much care for standing at Ragnarok's side like a beanpole of a bodyguard, but someone had to hand the guy prepared stock to sign. Maka, still his shadow, stood on the other side, guiding people along the table in an orderly fashion. Organization seemed to be her element, and he thought she could easily be mistaken for one of the employees by anyone who looked.

But she wasn't, he reminded himself, cracking open a CD before placing it in Ragnarok's waiting hand. She'd been a real pill this morning. Somehow, though, he found himself caring a little less than before. Maybe it had something to do with the way she'd stood up to the Gorgons.

Or maybe she was just prone to violence. He rubbed his ear.

Still, he didn't much care for the way Ragnarok's eyes lingered on her legs. Or the way his creepy red tongue poked out of the side of his mouth.

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. Kim held out her hand for the book he held.

"Relieving you of duty," she said. "Kid wants us to rotate so the store doesn't fall into disarray."

"Finally," Soul said, rolling his shoulder. "There are hundreds of these people."

Maka was chatting with Jackie when he came around to get her.

"I'm fine staying, really," she said. "I like introducing them, they get so happy."

Soul snorted. "Yeah, well, unfortunately you're still stuck to me like glue."

She pouted her lip and it definitely wasn't cute. "It's not like you can't see me from anywhere in this place."

Before he could respond, a series of high-pitched squeals came from the direction of the doorway. Soul winced and pulled at his hurt ear, glaring at the culprits. A tiny blonde woman and a taller red-haired man continued to vocalize their excitement as they jumped around an even taller, and very bored, man with silver hair and glasses. He took a long draw on his lit cigarette and sighed the smoke out of his nose.

"Hey," Soul yelled. "No smoking in here."

The smoking man's glasses glinted as he turned to look at Soul. He didn't make a move until the petite blonde tutted and pulled the cigarette from his mouth. Soul expected him to look pissed, but he only looked down at her and gave the slightest smile.

"Weirdos," Soul muttered. "Anyway, let's get going, we need to... what's wrong?"

Maka had gone wide-eyed, her posture rigid.

"Tell me," she said, voice quiet. "What do those people look like? The ones making the noise?"

"Uh," Soul rubbed the back of his neck. "Tiny blonde lady and dude with red hair, way too exuberant for their own good?"

She closed her eyes. "And there's a tall dour-looking guy with them?"

"Yeah."

Maka shoved the books she'd been holding into Jackie's arms.

"Thanks for the help," Maka said, then she booked it to the nearest display.

Soul followed, confused. "The hell? Thought you wanted to stay?"

"Changed my mind," she snapped. "I'm allowed."

"I didn't say you weren't. What's your issue?"

She was moving around him, standing on her tip toes to peer over his shoulders without moving to either side, like she was using him as a human shield.

"Would you cut it out?" He gripped her by the arms and held her in place, then immediately released her, feeling heat creep up his neck. "Who are those people?"

She chewed her lip before responding. "Nobody."

"You are a horrendous liar, and believe me, I didn't think anybody could be a worse liar than my brother, but you've outdone him." Soul moved to the side and she squeaked and tried to stay behind him. "Yeah, they're obviously nobody."

"It's my dad, okay?" she hissed. "He's my dad."

Soul blinked down at her, then looked back at the line. "That tall-ass motherfucker is your dad?"

"Not him," she hissed. "That's my Uncle Stein. My dad's the jackass jumping around with my Aunt Marie."

As Soul watched, Maka's dad and the blonde leaned together, whispering conspiratorially as they got nearer to the signing table. Uncle Stein continued to look like he barely tolerated being there, but he didn't say anything.

When he turned back Maka, her lip was pouting again and she looked away. "Ah," he said. "Don't want to get in trouble with daddy?"

A fire lit behind her green eyes as they snapped on to his. "You don't know anything."

She stormed off and he stood stunned in her wake for a minute before following. She ducked into a supply closet and he followed, and when she was backed into a corner she whirled on him.

"Why are you following me?" she yelled.

Soul flipped the light and closed the door with his foot so she wouldn't disturb the customers. "Because I have to, you asshole? Why are you yelling at me? I'm not the one who tried to steal electronica CDs this morning. It's not my fault that you're gonna get in trouble with your dad."

Her nostrils flared and Soul shrunk back against the door. Just a smidge. Not obviously.

"He's in trouble with me," she gritted between her teeth, pointing forcefully at her own chest when she said "me."

"Not sure I follow," Soul said.

She threw her hands up. "It's none of your business."

"Well sorry, you made it my business when you lifted merch and kicked me in the head."

"You are never going to let that go, are you?" she snapped.

He leaned forward close to her face. "You kicked me. In. The. Fucking. Head."

For just a moment, their breaths mingled. They leaned apart quickly.

"Just." She closed her eyes and sighed. He could practically see the fight draining out of her. "He's a liar, okay? He's a cheat and a liar and my mom left us and I don't want to talk about it. I was supposed to get out of here this summer. Go to college."

She slumped against the shelving, staring at her boots.

"Supposed to?" Soul prompted.

She laughed. It sounded a little watery and he shifted uncomfortably.

"My funding fell through," she said, sniffing and wiping an eye before looking back at him. "Clerical error. The scholarship money that was supposed to go to me got misplaced and donated to some charity for protecting rare lizards or something, I don't know. Point is, there's no money. I'm not going. I got the 'oopsie' letter this morning."

Deep in Soul's brain, something clicked.

"So you figured you'd come get your frustration out and ruin someone else's day, huh?" he said.

She glared at him, but he was smiling. Her shoulders relaxed a little.

"I guess I just reached my 'fuck it' limit, you know?" she said.

"I might be familiar with that limit," he said.

The stood quietly for a long minute. Then she shifted and said, "Sorry about kicking you in the ear. Panic reflex."

"I'll live, I guess," he acquiesced.

"Guess we'd better get out of here, huh?" she said, gesturing to the door behind him. "Don't we have work to do?"

"Yeah, we do," he said. He reached behind to open the door, standing aside and waving her through.

She smiled softly as she brushed past, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear as she went. He caught a whiff of vanilla from her hair and metal from her jacket as she slipped by. It suited her, somehow.

He swallowed and waited for the warmth in his belly to subside before he followed, closing the closet door behind him.

In the employee quarters, Kid was laying flat on the floor of his office, arm draped dramatically over his face and feet splayed to either side. Nearly everything that could possibly have gone wrong today had, so he thought he might as well lie down and wait for death.

It was the only logical conclusion, really.

There was a very gentle knock on his open door.

"Leave me to die," he groaned. "I don't want to hear about the next disaster. End my time on this forsaken earth before I have to put out one more fire."

"Oh," a shy voice said. "I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean... I'll go."

Kid sat straight up and looked around to find Crona's retreating back in the doorway.

"Wait, I'm sorry," he said. "I thought you were one of the many mistakes I call employees. Please, stay."

Crona met his eyes briefly before looking away. They bit their lip and worried the sleeve of their black jacket.

"I wanted... I mean... I'd like to say thank you," they said.

Kid blinked, surprised. "For what? If anything, I've made your job more miserable today."

"Oh no, not at all!" Crona looked at him in earnest now, gray eyes wide. "No one ever stands up for me the way that you did. With my... with those women."

"You're my guest," Kid said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "I don't stand for the harassment of anyone in this shop. I was glad to do it."

Crona dipped their head forward so their choppy hair fell around their face and in front of their eyes. Their smile was just barely visible.

"Still, it's the nicest anyone's been to me in a long time."

Kid moved forward on instinct, reaching out a hand and letting it hang in the air near Crona's arm. With incredible awkwardness, he patted them stiffly.

"I hate to hear that. You seem very..." Crona looked up at him and he swallowed. "... likeable. No one should treat you that way. If they do, I'll have something to say about it."

They stood like that a moment, looking at one another in silence, and where anyone else might have felt an overwhelming urge to fill it with small talk or look away, there was no strangeness. Just... understanding.

"You guys flirt weird," Black Star yelled from the break room.

Crona stumbled back, a faint blush peppering their cheeks.

"I need to get back to Ragnarok," they said, a little breathlessly. "He'll be needing a water refill about now and I'd rather not be yelled at."

"Absolutely," Kid said, waving to Crona's retreating form. "Wouldn't want the star to be parched. Unacceptable. Not in my shop. Anything we can do to help."

"They're gone," Black Star said from his lounge position on the couch. "You need a return ticket from Bizarro-World?"

Kid put his hands together in a prayer position, raising them to his mouth and searching desperately for a single shred of patience. He came up empty.

"Go stick your head in a meat grinder," he managed, turning back to his office.

"Brutal," Black Star said. He peered over the arm of the couch and spotted Tsubaki sitting near the Xbox with Liz and Kilik. "Tsu!" he called. "My savior! Fetch a bro a water bottle."

"Sorry," Tsubaki called back. "Busy at the moment."

Ignoring Star's shrill whines about dying of thirst in this godsforesaken desert, she turned her attention back to Liz.

"Wes means well," Tsubaki said. "It wasn't all bad, right? We had a good time, didn't we?"

"Hell yeah," Kilik said as he shot at aliens in the original Halo, one of the only games the old first-gen Xbox would play. "Remember Chicago? That was one for the ages."

A soft smile played at Tsubaki's mouth as she watched her bandmate fondly. To Liz, she said, "That's what Wes wants to remember, I think. The record label is really stressing him out. We haven't written anything good lately."

The young fans from earlier were staring and whispering nearby, so Kilik waved them over. They shyly held out a pair of napkins for signatures. Tsubaki and Kilik obliged, but when Tsu handed the napkin to Liz, she forced a smile and scribbled something barely legible.

After the fans were out of ear shot, Liz sighed. "It sucks that you guys are having trouble, and I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in coming back. Some of my best memories are with you guys, and I won't forget that. I'm just not cut out for the life. I have Pat to worry about. Besides, at that disaster of a festival right after the album dropped, I felt like an imposter every single second we played."

Tsubaki reached out and gripped her hands. "You were never an imposter."

Liz looked at their hands, rubbing circles against Tsu's knuckles with the pad of her thumb. She looked up and found Tsu's soft indigo eyes, so kind and painfully honest. Liz knew she meant it. Tsubaki didn't have a nasty bone in her body. Some folks might find that level of earnestness annoying, but it always gave Liz a warm light during some of her darkest days. Sometimes she wondered if she would have kindled that little flame if Wes hadn't been in the picture.

"Anyway," Liz said, pulling her hands away and fiddling with a strand of her long blonde hair. "There's plenty of talent out there. You guys will find someone. Heck, you could start here with..."

She looked up just in time to see a tuft of white hair walk by.

"There!" she said. "Why don't you have Soul audition? You'd have the brother thing going. Fans would love it."

Soul stopped dead and Maka bounced off his back and huffed at him. He backed up and cast a hooded-eyed glance at Liz.

"What are you on about?" he drawled.

"The band, you dweeb." She rolled her eyes. "Play them some of that shit that you record on the test equipment when you think no one's paying attention. Plus, you can sing. I haven't forgotten that karaoke night."

He pointed at her. "We don't speak of the karaoke night. Also, no."

Kilik paused his game and adjusted his glasses, looking up at Soul. "She's on to something, man. You really rocked Fleetwood Mac, if I remember correctly."

"I was like eight shots deep and so were all of you," Soul said, crossing his arms. "And also, no."

Maka looked up at Soul with wide eyes. "You didn't tell me you were a musician."

"I've known you for like six seconds, why would I tell you anything? And I'm not a musician. I just fuck around with a guitar once in a while. It's not the same thing."

Liz cackled. "If 'fucking around with a guitar' is what you call being a classically trained musician, sure."

Soul narrowed his eyes, his lip curling up enough to show an eyetooth. Liz snapped her mouth shut.

"What?" Maka said. "That's amazing! Why wouldn't you do anything with that? San Den See is awesome, I bet you'd be a great addition."

"Conversation's over," Soul said, turning to walk away. "Answer's still no."

Maka followed in his wake, plying him with questions that he appeared to studiously ignore.

Tsubaki and Liz shared looks that clearly said, "forgot how moody he gets about dropping out of art school." Then they shared a smile.

Jackie and Kim chose that minute to plop down in the seats on either side of them. Kim leaned forward, elbow on her knee.

"Liz," she said. "Babe. My darling. Queen of my heart."

"What do you want?" Liz asked.

Kim leaned back and put a hand on her chest, mock-offended. "Only to tell you how much you are rocking that skirt today, obviously."

Jackie rolled her eyes. "Somebody's got to go pick up our guest's lunch."

Kim frowned at her friend.

"Just remembered I'm supposed to be on the registers," Liz said, standing and scooting past Kim.

"Oh, come on! Please? Soul already denied me and Black Star is tethered to the shop. I'll do all your cleaning duties after closing tonight," Kim said. "Pretty please?"

"Have fun!" Liz said, waving over her shoulder as she joined Patty at the checkout desk.

"Ugh, why me," Kim said, going limp in her chair and rolling her head back.

"And me," Jackie mumbled.

Kilik looked away from the screen for a split second to give her a respectable side-eye. "Thought you'd jump at the chance to get on your sugar daddy's good side."

Jackie's cheeks colored. "Oh, of course. It would be an honor." She smiled, too brightly.

Kim groaned as she stood. "Guess that means it's you and me, babe."

"Y-yeah," Jackie said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"What, why?" Kilik asked. "You need two people to carry a catered lunch?"

"Apparently," Kim said. "His assistant said something about multiple bags. I don't know."

A few grumbling moments of dodging another group of twitterpated 40-somethings later, they made it to the sidewalk and started toward Death City's finest (and most expensive) sushi-slash-teppanyaki joint. Jackie stared at her feet and pretended not to notice Kim take another nip from her flask.

"So what's it like, meeting your idol?" Kim asked, hopping up on a low wall and holding out her arms for balance as she walked. "Living the dream?"

Jackie laughed, the tightness in her throat constricting the sound into a squeak. "Today hasn't been what I expected, that's for sure. He's very... crass."

Kim hopped down and dust puffed up around her feet. "You can say he's an asshole. It's okay. I know it's parlance of the common people and all, but since you were planning on slumming it, might as well adopt the language."

Jackie stopped dead, a bolt shooting through her chest. "What's that supposed to mean?"

With a chuckle, Kim turned to look at her, stumbling a bit before she caught herself. "If you wanted to get your nasties out before you go off to that fancy college, you just had to ask. You know I know people."

Heat rose up Jackie's chest. She didn't know how to respond to that, to tell Kim that she didn't have _nasties_ to get out, that this whole thing was a giant lie, and besides, it's not like she doesn't swear, so what the hell is Kim on about, anyway?

"Maybe I don't want anything to do with _your people,_ " Jackie snapped. She tried not to see the way Kim's face darkened as she stomped past.

Gods, they were best friends. Why couldn't Kim see what was going on?

 _Because you've hidden it so well,_ said a needling voice in the back of her brain, which she promptly ignored.

Once they reached Shinigami's, the silence between them was almost palpable. Even the hostess taking their information cast a nervous glance back and forth, like she was worried their stiff body language was going to evolve into blows. She retreated into the back and emerged with an enormous tray of sushi and three bags full of boxes and canisters.

 "Jesus," Kim mumbled. "No wonder he's like a hundred feet tall."

 Jackie didn't respond, walking off with her sheet of dark hair swaying behind her, arms full of food.

The quiet between them started to grow teeth, gnawing at each in turn as their minds spilled over with every slight that could be read into their earlier snipes. The crowd gave them a wide berth when they got back to The Skull. Kid had managed to set up a pair of card tables for them to prepare the meal before they took it into Ragnarok's waiting room. They glared at one another as they began unwrapping the food.

The sushi went onto a wooden board provided by the restaurant, carefully arranged by color and fat content. Jackie focused all her energy on their placement so she could avoid looking at Kim.

It wasn't until her friend's flask made another appearance that she snapped.

"Will you stop that?" Jackie said. "It's the middle of the godsdamned day, Kim."

Very intentionally, Kim held her eye while she tilted the flask back, taking a healthy swig.

"You're at _work,_ " Jackie said, unable to stop now that she'd started. "You always do this, live your life in a haze so you don't have to deal with hard shit. Well, guess what? We've all got problems. Grow up."

Black Star's blue head perked up off the couch, watching with wide eyes. Soul and Maka peered through the doorway when they heard the noise.

Neither of the girls noticed, especially not when Kim's cruel laugh pierced the air.

"Grow up? Me? Please, babe. I've been dealing with the hard shit since before you had teeth to dent that silver spoon in your fucking mouth. Sorry that _my people_ are so beneath you and your fancy bright future at your fancy beach college."

Kim slopped soup over the side of the bowl she was pouring in. Crona, who had just slipped out of Ragnarok's room, rushed over with a napkin to clean it up.

"I'm so sorry, do you need help?" they asked. "I'm happy to take over from here, he likes it a very particular-"

"I know how he likes it," Jackie snapped. "I've been researching his eating habits for months."

"She loves him, see," Kim said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Crona stumbled back, looking worried but unwilling to push. Jackie felt an instant surge of shame, felt an apology at the back of her tongue, but her anger trampled over it on the way out.

"What do you know about love?" she snarled at Kim. "You only care about people for as much as you can get out of them."

The look on Kim's face might have been less pained if Jackie had stabbed her, and she immediately regretted the words, but they were out there now, broken on the floor between them.

The entire staff now gathered in the room around them, looking on. Kid took Kim's arm and Soul took Jackie's.

"That's enough," Kid said quietly, but it was as if they hadn't heard him.

Kim surged forward, getting close to Jackie's face. "Did I make a good story on your admissions essay, huh? Your wrong-side-of-the-tracks friend who ran away at 15 and had to steal everything she ever needed to survive? Did they gush over what a generous fucking soul you are?"

Jackie strained against Soul, who had his arm around her middle, holding her back. A strangled sob made its way past her throat. "You know how hard I worked for this! For everything! Sorry I'm not drinking my life away and angry at the world all the time."

"I might be a drunk," Kim said. "But at least I know who I am. Who the fuck are you?"

"Will you two stop?" Soul said.

"I'm stopping," Jackie sobbed, shaking him off and walking across the room. "I'm stopping."

Kid glared at both of them and turned to Crona. "I apologize for my employees. I'll be happy to take Ragnarok his lunch and speak to him personally."

Kim ripped her arm away from him. "I'm taking the stupid lunch," she said, staring daggers at Jackie's shaking back. "Scumbags have to stick together, after all."

Before anyone could protest, she picked up the prepared tray and stormed off to serve the waiting star. Jackie whirled, tears streaming down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to ask Kim to wait, but she was already gone.

Jackie's legs folded under her as she sat on the cold floor. Liz went to her immediately, putting gentle hands on her shoulders. A big sister's instinct was strong.

"Come on, honey," Liz said. "Let's get you cleaned up."


	7. Wings you'd never noticed before

In the bathroom, Liz filled the sink with cool water while Jackie stood beside her, hiccupping and fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater. When the sink was full, Liz held her long hair back and dipped her face in the water, cooling her down and soothing her puffy eyes. After a few seconds, Jackie stood up and Liz wiped her face off with a clean towel. It came away smudged with makeup.

Jackie gave a watery laugh. "It took me an hour to put that on this morning."

"Yeah, well, no worries." Liz said, continuing to wipe her face until it was clean. "You're beautiful without it, but I have my bag with me if you want a touch-up. My treat."

"That would be great."

Liz smiled and put the toilet lid down, instructing Jackie to sit. The older girl dug through her bag until she produced a full cosmetics' counter worth of product and went to work.

She dusted powder and then blush over Jackie's face.

"So," Liz said as she dabbed on eye shadow primer. "Wanna talk about it?"

"What's to talk about?" Jackie answered. "I'm awful and I just said horrible things to my best friend. I don't know why you're being nice to me."

Liz shrugged. "We've all got our shit, doll. Love makes you do crazy things."

Jackie stared.

"Look up," Liz said, and Jackie complied. While she applied mascara, Liz added, "I'm not going to tell you that you didn't fuck up. You both just said some pretty nasty stuff. All I know is that there's more to this story, and I think you should probably talk about it once she's out of there and that creep's gone."

Lip tint went on last.

"There," Liz said. "Good as new."

Jackie stood to look in the mirror and gaped. "You're incredible. It looks better than what I did."

Liz shrugged. "Two years working a MAC counter sticks with you. You ready?"

Jackie took a deep breath, holding it in her lungs. An awful feeling gnawed at her insides and she knew the only way to get rid of it was to bleed it out.

She still had a confession to make.

Unfortunately, Kim was finding significantly less support in the company of Ragnarok. She'd kicked the door closed behind her with a little too much force and she winced at the noise. A wicked headache started clawing at the base of her skull, and looking up into the leering face of an old-as-fuck superstar didn't help.

She held up the tray. "Your lunch, sir."

If Ragnarok detected the sarcastic disdain in her voice, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he leaned back and gestured at the table laid out in front of him. Taking her cue, Kim barely managed to keep her eyes from rolling as she dropped the tray. A sliver of guilt slipped through her as one of Jackie's carefully-arranged pieces of sushi tipped over. She quashed it.

Fuck guilt. Fuck everything. And especially, fuck Jackie.

She was so preoccupied with her antagonism that she didn't move away quickly enough. Ragnarok reached up and caught a strand of her hair as she leaned over him, rubbing it between his fingers.

"Very pink," he said. "I like pink things."

His face was way too close to hers. Fighting her instinct to shove him away, she gingerly reached up and pried his fingers loose.

"You sure know your colors. Enjoy your food."

She gave a mocking bow and walked over to lean moodily against a filing cabinet. All of her exposed flesh (and most of her unexposed flesh) was crawling being in the same room with Ragnarok, but she knew she was supposed to wait until he was done. Something about his peculiar habits. Not all of Jackie's ramblings fell on inattentive ears.

Kim grit her teeth and slumped deeper into her slouch. She didn't often let the fact that she was broke and living in a different place every few months make her feel lesser, but being around Jackie these days had been hard. Her future contained degrees and travel and freedom. Probably love, too. Kim couldn't afford such luxuries.

Worse, she hated the way those luxuries filled her with resentment for the one person who had never looked down their nose at her, not even when they were kids.

Not until today anyway.

Kim didn't cry, but the ache behind her eyes and the pounding of her head made her want to. Just a bit.

Ragnarok pulled her out of her thoughts with a particularly nasty slurp. She wrinkled her nose as she looked at him use his entire mouth to chew, bits of red fish and white rice clearly visible through his open lips.

Of all the people in the world to capture Jackie's attention, it was _this_ _guy?_

She wanted to gag. For more reasons than one.

Ragnarok finished his meal with several appreciative lip smacks, leaning back in his chair and belching. Kim pushed off the filing cabinet and came closer to clear his place to his specifications. She didn't say a word, but that didn't stop him from filling in the silence.

"Who'd you have to fight to get this job, Bubblegum? Heard you yelling out there. Was it that cute Betty Crocker schoolgirl with the cupcakes? Always love having a couple cute bitches fighting over me. Keeps me young."

Kim didn't respond. She only glared at him before continuing to collect his dirtied dishes.

He reached out to wrap his fingers around her wrist, each one cold and dry. She yanked her hand back reflexively, but he didn't let go, allowing the momentum to pull him up out of the chair to tower over her.

"Let me go," she said through her teeth.

In answer, he lifted her palm to his mouth and licked along it with his long tongue. She shuddered involuntarily and he didn't seem to notice.

"Hm," he said. "Not as sweet as I thought. That's all right. Shall we?"

This time, she stomped on his insole with every ounce of frustration, fury, and disgust she possessed. He released her to grab his injured foot.

"Every time someone looks at me like I'm trash, I'm going to remember this moment," she growled. "So I remember what trash actually looks like."

To her absolute horror, his smile didn't fade.

"Remind me to thank your boss for sending me the tiny dom. Hit me again!"

Outside in the break room, Soul patted a cleaned-up Jackie on the shoulder.

"You look better," Maka said. She was perched on the back of the couch next to Black Star and she beamed at Jackie. She fit in so naturally that it was like she'd been working there with them all along.

Jackie nodded. "Yeah. I just needed a minute. Is Kim...?"

Soul opened his mouth to respond, but a yell from Ragnarok's room cut him off. Patty rushed into the room.

"What was that?" she said.

In response, more noises came from the room. Grunts, squeaks, and Ragnarok's cackle.

"Like that, yeah!" the star shouted.

Jackie paled and she and Soul started across the room toward the door. Whatever was happening in there, nobody liked the sound of it.

Soul reached the door first, but before he could open it, Kim rushed out, her hair askew and her shirt torn at the shoulder. Her chest heaved as she looked around the room, wild-eyed.

"That guy is _fucking bananas_ and he should not be allowed in public," she gasped.

"Thanks for the good time, Bubblegum!" Ragnarok called from the other side of the door. Kim kicked it with her heel in response.

Jackie's mind went a mile a minute. She couldn't process. Kim hadn't, had she? She wouldn't.

Their fight was still fresh in her mind, threading its nasty tentacles into the darkest parts of her brain. What if she would?

Jackie gulped, backing away. Kim's eyebrows twitched into the ghost of a frown. Then Jackie turned and ran for the stairwell that lead to the roof.

"Jacks!" Kim yelled. "You dickweed, are you serious?"

She yanked her ripped shirt up on her shoulder and followed her friend, asshole or not.

The others were still gaping after them when Ragnarok emerged, straightening his shirt and grinning like a wolf. Kid and Crona emerged from the office, the former expressionless and the latter stammering questions and apologies.

Ragnarok looked around at all of them, apparently impervious to the level of harm being wished on him at that exact moment. He spread his arms wide and nodded to Kid.

"Appreciated the dessert you sent with my meal," he said. "Bubblegum's the perfect compliment for tuna any way you slice it. Little bummed she didn't close the deal, though."

Complete silence.

Black Star raised a hand. "Jefe, permission to leave the couch for the purpose of an ass beating."

Kid crossed his arms. "Permission granted."

If not for the streak of blue across the room, it would have been impossible to see Black Star's fist make it from the couch to Ragnarok's face as fast as it did. The musician stumbled back, stunned, and Star used the opportunity to get in a few solid jabs to the ribs. Not missing a beat, Patty joined the dance, her toes finding shins and elbow finding a nose.

Kid let them go for a solid thirty seconds before he called them off. Star pulled back, cracking his bruised knuckles. He didn't have a single scratch on him.

"That's for being a soulless asshole," he said. "As opposed to one with a soul, like yours truly."

Ragnarok sputtered, a fine spray of blood falling on the floor from his bleeding lip. His good humor had vanished.

"Fucking amateurs," he spat. "You're ruined. I'm dropping the Gorgons a line the second I get out of this shithole record store. You'll be hearing from my lawyer. Enjoy your descent into loserdom, fuckfaces."

Kid flicked his hand toward the door to the back alley. "I'd say it's been a pleasure, but you're a wretched human being and I don't like to lie. May you fade into obscurity. Get out of here."

Ragnarok snatched up his bag and gave one last diatribe of petty insults before stomping toward the exit.

"Crona!" he barked.

Some semblance of emotion finally showed on Kid's face as he turned toward the assistant. "I'm truly sorry for any inconvenience I've caused you today. It was lovely spending time with you."

Crona's eyes were teeming with worry as they looked between Kid and Ragnarok, seemingly torn on how to proceed.

"CRONA!" Ragnarok yelled. "Now, you pathetic twig!"

"I'm so sorry," they whispered, gathering their clipboard and hurrying after their boss.

Kid watched them go, a look a little like sorrow on his face. When he came back to himself, he looked around the room and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Well, our star attraction is gone. I'd say that's a wrap," he said.

Soul handed Star a bag of ice wrapped in a towel and looked up at Kid, frowning. "What's that mean?"

Kid shook his head. "It means we're done. The Skull's finished. There's no way to make up the money we lost from this fool's shenanigans, and I'm out of ideas. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my office, waiting for the sweet embrace of death."

When his door clicked closed, the others were at a loss. Patty trudged back out front to rejoin Liz at the registers, her typical bubbly demeanor oddly deflated. Soul scrubbed his hands through his hair and gave a frustrated growl.

"No," he said. "The Skull's not going down like this. _We're_ not going down like this."

Black Star still massaged his knuckles. "You remember how to make thirty thousand bucks in a day, bro?"

"We're going to figure it out," Soul said. He snapped his fingers and beckoned. "Come on."

Star and Maka followed him out front. Now that the remaining crowd had figured out Ragnarok wouldn't be making an encore appearance, they'd dispersed. Only the regulars and a handful of browsers remained. A tumbleweed would not have been out of place.

Soul marched up to the checkout desk and slammed his hands down.

"We have to do something," he said. "I need this place."

Maka blinked up at him. It didn't escape her notice that he'd said "this place," not "this job."

"Mud wrestling contest?" Star suggested. "That's always a big draw."

"You're gross," Liz said.

He buffed his nails on his shirt. "Didn't say anything about it being ladies-only, did I? I'll throw down in a bikini, I don't care."

"Aaaargh," Soul said, putting his head in his hands. "It has to be something big, guys. Come on. If the Gorgons turn this place into an asshole hipster bar, I don't know what I'll do. Something pathetic, probably."

"Bro, you're a hipster," Star said.

"Missing the point," Soul yelled.

"What about a charity event?" Patty chimed in. "Save your favorite neighborhood music hole, that sort of thing."

"That could work," Maka agreed.

"We need a draw," Soul said. He'd worked enough of his parents' charity events as a kid to know. "People don't just show up and give you money unless they feel super guilty about something."

The group thought a moment.

"Could we frame someone for murder?" Patty asked.

"Wrong kind of guilt," Soul said.

The bell over the shop door rang out, drawing their attention. It was Wes. He gave a low whistle.

"I noticed a black Mercedes burning rubber out of the alley and I figured the crowd might have thinned out," he said. "Kind of bummed I was right."

Soul bared his teeth and opened his mouth to tell Wes to beat it, but a hand on his arm stayed him. He looked down to find Maka's eyes, huge and green, staring up into his. He wasn't sure he liked the fire burning behind them.

"I have an idea," she said with a sidelong glance at Wes.

* * *

 

Kim was panting by the time she made it to the roof. The door swung shut behind her and a hot desert wind whipped her pink hair back and forth.

"Jacks?" she called. "It's hot as balls up here, just come out."

No answer. She sucked in a breath and held it, trying not to let her headache and her anger get out of control. She turned in a slow circle, trying to spot her friend. Ex-friend? Gods. Who knew anymore.

She tried to ignore the twist in her gut at the thought.

"I didn't do anything with that creep-ass sexual harassment panda, all right? Get a grip. Get several grips."

Kim leaned against the brick outcropping beneath the large MACABRE RECORDS sign that stretched across the roof and lit up at night. A neon-light skull took the place of the O in "records." She crossed her arms and sighed. As brave a face as she put on, the thought of not having at least one familiar thing to fall back on in a sea of unknowns freaked her the fuck out.

"I'm gonna give you three seconds to come out from wherever you're hiding or I'm gonna start singing Blurred Lines," she said, loud enough to be heard over the wind. "One. Two. Three. Everybody get up..."

"GODS, stop, I'm here, I'm here," Jackie said, coming out from behind the air duct. She walked toward Kim and stopped a few feet away, looking at her feet and rubbing her arm. "I'm sorry. I was awful."

Kim shrugged, pretending that the apology didn't mean as much to her as it did. "I could've left my bitch hat at home too, I guess. You know I'd never touch that freak with a ten-foot pole, right?"

Jackie nodded, eyes still askance.

"So why the freakout? Why all the freakouts today, for that matter? You've been weird since this morning. You were _chipper._ You don't do chipper."

Finally, Jackie raised her dark eyes to look at Kim. Her expression was guarded, but there was something else there, peeking through. Fear, maybe?

Jackie swallowed and took another step forward. "I've been meaning to tell you something for a long, long time. I don't know how, but I gave myself a deadline. Today. Ragnarok Day."

Kim scoffed and kicked her shoe against the roof. "Ragnarok fuckin' Day," she said. She had an idea what this was about, and it wasn't a conversation she wanted to have. Her head pounded. "I don't need your help, okay?"

Confusion knit Jackie's eyebrows together. "What?"

"With my drinking. I don't need you to ask your folks to like, pay for rehab or whatever," she said, turning and walking a few steps. "I know it's a problem, but it's not your problem. I'll figure it out."

Suddenly Jackie's hand was on her arm, whirling her around, and she stood right there, so close. Her hair blew in the wind, covering her face and showing only pieces at a time -- her shining eyes, her shaking red lip, her flushed cheeks.

"Of course I'll help you," she said. "I will always help you. I love you."

A flood of feeling surged through Kim's chest. She had trouble keeping it from rising in her throat and spilling everywhere. All her life, the only thing she'd ever been able to count on was Jacks' love.

"I know," Kim said. "I love you too, babe."

Jackie laughed, dipping her head. Teardrops fell from her eyes and left black spots on her dusty Mary Janes. When she looked up again, her expression was calm, open. More open than Kim had seen her in a long time.

"No, Kim," she said, putting shaking hands on either side of her face. "I _love_ you."

And she leaned forward in slow motion, their breaths warmer than the wind whipping around them, and their lips met.

Oh.

_Oh._

Jackie's kiss felt soft and dry. Safe. Familiar. Seconds or years later, they broke and rested their foreheads together. Kim's head still ached, but she pushed the pain out of her mind as she twisted her fingers into the softness of Jackie's cardigan.

"How long?" Kim said, her voice breaking.

"I don't know," Jackie whispered. "Forever, maybe."

"What about Soul?"

"Soul's the only one who _knew_ _._ I asked him to... you know. I didn't know what else to do."

Kim gave an exhausted laugh. "I never even considered this, of all things."

Jackie's breath hitched and she leaned back. Kim saw the hurt flick across her face and immediately grabbed her friend's hand.

"No, I didn't mean... I never considered it because I've never been on your level, Jacks. You're better than me. Always have been."

"Life's given me better options than it gave you," Jackie said. "That doesn't make me better. It doesn't make you worse. Everything about you, it's..." She reached out with her other hand, fingers shaking, pulling back just before she touched Kim's hair. "You're brilliant and funny and full of rage. You punched Ox for making fun of my braces in the fifth grade. I've never been so in awe of anyone, and if I ever made you feel less than awesome, I'm so sorry. "

Kim squeezed her eyes shut. Her chest felt so full, so tight.

Arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her in tight. A whisper in her ear said, "When I think of love, you're the only thing I see."

"This is what you wanted to tell me," Kim said, a small sob in her throat. "You stayed up to make cupcakes for a douche because you didn't know how to talk to me?"

"Not about this."

Kim traced her hand over Jackie's side until she reached her long sheet of hair, then traced that until she found the nape of her neck. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to."

They pulled apart just enough for Jackie to see the look in Kim's eye. No. They didn't need to talk anymore.

This time, Kim kissed her and her knees nearly buckled. It was like living every day of your life and suddenly waking up to discover that you had wings you'd never noticed before, but they'd been there all along. A thousand days of hugs and secrets and hand-holding, of confessions and fights and devastating truths. They were all wrapped up in their mouths, going back and forth unsaid.

When their lips parted and Jackie felt Kim's tongue against hers, she shuddered involuntarily in the very best way. The bite of alcohol was faint, barely noticeable, and reluctantly she broke away.

Breathlessly, she said, "You have to promise me you'll get help. Go to meetings."

Kim's lips were swollen and pink. Her chest heaved, and instead of an answer, she held up a pinky finger and Jackie melted. Hooking it with her own pinky, Jackie kissed the knuckle of her thumb and Kim followed suit, an unbreakable promise they'd made a million times before. They didn't go back on pinky swears.

Their hands dropped and their mouths met again. In seconds, Jackie's back was pressed flush up against the wall near the door, their fingers exploring and twisting and probing. Kim pressed into her, kissing along her jawline and down her neck. When she reached the place where her neck met her shoulder, she bit down and Jackie gasped.

Kim looked up at her, eyes heavy-lidded with want, but she waited. Watched. Jackie swallowed. Brushed her fingertips over her best friend's face. Nodded.

Then they were pressed tight together, mouth to chest to pelvis to thigh. The coolness of the brick against Jackie's back was the only thing keeping her grounded as Kim's touch glanced the sides of her breasts.

When a gentle palm cupped her, rolling a thumb with practiced ease and utmost care, Jackie threw her head back and gasped. Liquid metal pooled in her belly, dipping low until she felt sure she'd break. Then, she felt Kim loosen the zipper of her skirt. Kim tossed her hair back and watched Jackie's face as she ran her fingers along the front hem of her skirt.

Thought was impossible. It was all she could do not to split apart.

Kim gave her a soft and slightly wicked smile -- the one that meant they were doing something fun but just a little outside the rules. Then she leaned in, pressed a soft kiss to Jackie's mouth, and slid her fingers down, down, down.

"Ah," Jackie exhaled as Kim's fingers found purchase right where she ached most, sliding and circling. She dug her fingers into Kim's shoulders and bit her lip to keep her louder cries inside.

With her free hand, Kim slid down her hip and thigh, lifting Jackie's leg so she could wrap it around her. She leaned in and kissed Jackie's neck as she continued working with her fingers.

It didn't take long. "Kim," Jackie gasped. "Kim, gods, I can't.... Kim!"

Her mouth fell open and she curled forward, clinging to Kim for dear life as she shivered at the peak and then spilled over, the pulses coming quickly, then slower and slower until her body stilled. They clung together for a moment, then Jackie lifted a heavy hand to pull Kim in for another kiss.

"Do you, um," Jackie said, her breath still thin. "I could do that to you? I mean, I've never done it before, but I think I could try."

Kim threw her head back and laughed, but it wasn't cruel. It was full of joy. Her eyes twinkled when she looked back.

"We can practice later, okay?"

The desert wind caressed them, reminding them how very hot it was on the roof.

Jackie smiled. "Okay."

Finally, one thing had gone right today.

 


	8. Stomp The Snakes, Save The Skull!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The original lyrics included in this chapter ("Heaven Knows") were written by thesockswhowearsfox. A link to the recorded version will be embedded, as well as available on my Tumblr and in my profile!

By the time Kim and Jackie had managed to smooth themselves out and make it look like they hadn't just gotten lucky on the roof, they walked into an apparent shitstorm in the front of the shop.

"I'm sorry, guys, I'm not going to do it," Liz said, looking pissed as hell as she stared down her friends and coworkers. "You have no idea what being in the band did to me. I won't do it again."

"But it's just this once, baby," Wes said. He snapped his mouth shut when he realized he'd let a pet name slip.

Liz threw up her hands. "It doesn't matter! It took me months to crawl out of the hole I was in last time. I can't do that to myself or Patty again."

Patty sidled up beside her sister and linked their arms together. "Sis said no. That's the end of it."

On Liz's other side, Tsubaki put a hand on her shoulder and nodded. "I'm with Patty. The answer's no. We'll have to figure out something else."

"There isn't anything else!" Soul said. He started to pace. "This is the only idea we've got."

Kim cleared her throat. "What did we just walk in on?"

"Oh look, they made up," Black Star said, jerking a thumb in their direction. "That's nice."

"Nothing, apparently," Soul snapped.

Maka cast him a look that was one part sympathy and one part annoyance, which was impressive. "We thought if we could put together a pop-up comeback concert for San Den See, we could earn enough money to keep the shop's doors open a little while longer."

Kim blinked at her. "Do you work here now?" she said, not unkindly.

Maka blushed. "What can I say, you've all grown on me."

She looked sidelong at Soul and away again.

Kim walked to the counter and hopped up to sit on it, nabbing a fresh bottle of water and downing half of it. After she swallowed, she said, "You know, pop-up concert's not a bad idea. Especially not if we set up some cameras and did a web broadcast."

"That's brilliant," Maka said, her eyes going wide. "We could throw together a crowdfunding page! People donate to watch the show from anywhere!"

"Sure, except there's one problem," Soul said, flicking a hand at Liz. "The band has no singer or second guitar."

"You could do it," Maka said, looking around at the others for support.

Soul went very still. "I thought I told you I don't do that shit."

Maka rolled her eyes. "No, you told _them_ that you wouldn't audition. You didn't tell _me_ anything."

"Could I talk to you a second?" Soul growled and jerked his head. "Over here?"

She shrugged and followed him toward the storage room in the corner.

Jackie approached the counter and spoke to Kim under her breath. "Um. Should we leave the two of them alone?"

With a shrug, Kim said, "You tell me. You're the one he's supposedly been in love with for a million years. Think he'll be okay?"

Knowingly, Jackie gave a quiet laugh. "I think he's gonna be fine."

The girls caught one another's eye and shared a secret smile.

* * *

 

They were back in the storage closet again, and they were fighting.

"I thought this mattered to you," she said inches from his face. "I've been your shadow all day and I've seen how much these people and this place means to you. You're terrified to lose it all. So why won't you step up?"

"You don't know anything," he yelled. Her hair moved with his breath. "I spent my entire adolescence trying to get away from performing like a trained fucking monkey. Playing some hollow piece of shit sonata that someone wrote a billion years ago, something that I couldn't force my fingers to get right. I don't do that. Not anymore."

She threw her hands out to her sides. "So don't play some hollow piece of shit! Play _your_ shit!"

"You don't know a godsdamned thing about music."

"So? Do you want to save this place or not?"

"It's not that simple." He ran his fingers through his hair until it stood on end and turned to scowl at the wall so he wouldn't have to look at her.

"It is too," she said. "You clearly have the talent, so just go out there and do it. For the shop, and for yourself."

He threw his hands in the air. "I don't know how to just do stuff. That's not how I work."

She took a step closer to him, her brow furrowed and her breath coming fast. Half of him wanted to back into the door because he knew what a literal punch she packed in that slender frame, and the other half of him wanted to get closer. It had wanted to get closer and closer as the day wore on. Which was ridiculous, because he so rarely wanted to get close to anyone.

Maka stared into him, through him, past everything he felt like he had to hide. The tip of her tongue peeked out and ran along her bottom lip, transfixing him. She took one breath and tried to speak, then swallowed and took another.

"Then let me help you learn to take some risks," she said.

Then she leaned forward, closing the space between them, and rolled up on her toes to catch his mouth with hers.

For the first time in a million years, Soul's mind went completely, blissfully blank. No impish voice telling him what an enormous loser he was, no needling worries about family shit, no jealousy, no anger, no feeling of panic that occasionally clutched his chest in an iron grip and refused to let go. The only thing currently on his mind was Maka.

And Maka's mouth.

It only took him a few seconds to stir himself out of his shock enough to respond in kind. He leaned into her, his hands going to either side of her head so he could pull her in deeper. Her lips parted to sigh against his and electricity crackled along every nerve in his body.

When she leaped up to wrap her legs around his waist, he caught her easily and moved to the nearest available shelf, giving her more support and allowing his hands to roam. He ran his fingers up her bare back beneath her shirt, feeling her shiver under his touch. Soul very rarely felt like he was in control of the universe or even his own life, but knowing he could make this tiny woman full of steel and fury shudder like that certainly gave him the briefest taste of power. He liked it.

He bit her lower lip and she gasped. A moment later, she turned her head to capture his ear lobe in her teeth and it was his turn to gasp. Was it the same ear she'd kicked not so many hours ago? He couldn't remember.

She was warm and solid and soft in places he wouldn't have thought she would be, if only because she didn't strike him as remotely soft. Her legs dangled on either side of him and she reached a hand around to slip into his back pocket, pulling him in until the heat of their hips met.

A giggle against his neck brought him out of his hazy stupor.

"What?" he huffed.

"Feels like you're plenty capable of _just doing stuff,_ if that boner is any indication."

He growled. "You can't bite a dude's ears like that and expect him to keep his cool."

She giggled again and leaned back to look him in the face, bright green eyes meeting heavy-lidded red. "Sorry. Old trick the mock trial club used to use to get the nerves out before competition."

He gave her a slow blink. "You used to bite each other's ears?"

She gave him an affectionate bop on the back of the head. "We made out. Well. They made out. I tried it once. It was weird, but they claimed it worked, so I figured I'd give it a try again and see if it helped."

"Was it weird this time?"

She leaned forward again and brushed his lips with hers. "No," she whispered.

Their kisses turned slow, languid. If someone had told Soul this morning that this was how his day would turn out, he'd have told them they were clearly oxygen-deprived, and yet here he was. And the day wasn't even over yet. Who knew what would happen before midnight.

When they broke apart again to catch their breath, Maka ran her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and he closed his eyes in appreciation.

"You don't have to sing if you don't want to, obviously," she said quietly. "No one can make you. But for what it's worth, I think you can do this, and I think you'd be good at it."

Soul swallowed, staring down her front at the gapping pockets of her army jacket. "I guess no one else is going to save this place's ass."

He felt her smile against his skin as she pressed a kiss to his temple.

When they emerged from the closet, the others fell silent, a few of them giving them knowing looks which Soul resolutely ignored. He took his time approaching the group, Maka matching his pace.

Wes leaned on his shoulder as soon as he was within reach. "Well, little brother? Gonna make your debut tonight and save The Skull?"

Soul looked to Maka, who met him with an encouraging smile.

"As long as no one films this," Soul said.

Black Star's head popped up from behind the counter. He spat out the loose cables he held between his teeth. "Oh we're definitely filming this."

Patty stood up next to him with a modem in her hands. "We're broadcasting worldwide! Just finished setting up the crowdfunding page."

Soul paled and Maka put a reassuring hand on his back. Wes joined her.

"You'll be great, kid," he said. "Let's go over the set list."

As they walked off to join Kilik and Tsubaki, Maka swore she heard Soul say, "We're starting with one of mine."

 

__

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The rest of the afternoon went by in a whirl of activity. Patty and Black Star worked diligently to get the feed set up with a spare server that Star kept in reserve for his mega-popular workout streaming site. Patty was an absolute wiz at setting up a password-protected gate that only opened after someone donated to the crowdfunding page. Liz shook everybody down for potential prizes to offer up to those who donated. The members of San Den See diligently listened over Soul's samples, their faces masked in concentration while they held giant padded earphones to their heads.

The crew sent out word for the concert on every channel they could think of, and the shop's phone started to ring nonstop. Liz took charge, giving the callers as much information as she could manage. Slowly, the donation counter on the crowdfunding page started to tick up, a few bucks here and there.

"We're up to $150!" Patty called. "We can't Scrooge McDuck yet, but not bad."

By the time the afternoon sun had turned orange and sunk down in the sky, people started to trickle into the shop, browsing through the merch and pretending not to make eyes at Wes and the guy-who-looked-a-lot-like-Wes. San Den See decided it'd be prudent to retreat to the break room.

A trio of girls approached the checkout counter and Black Star leaned down to greet them.

"Lllllladies," he said. "What can I do you for?"

One of the girls, a slight thing with long black hair, said, "Oh, um, we were wondering if you're selling any t-shirts? Or the vinyl editions of San Den See? For, you know, signing?"

"Nope," Star said. Before he could elaborate, Kid shoved him aside and met the girls with a smile.

"I'm sorry, we don't currently stock apparel," he said. "But we do have copies of the Rolling Stone issue featuring San Den See, if you'd like?"

"That would be acceptable," said the blonde girl.

After he rang them up, Kid whirled on his employees. "Would someone kindly tell me what witchcraft you've performed to get this crowd in here?"

"We're taking care of everything, Kiddo, don't worry," Patty chirped.

Liz put her hand over the mouthpiece of the store's phone. "We're hosting a pop-up concert, boss. Stomp The Snakes, Save The Skull." She went back to giving the person on the other end of the line directions.

"Stomp the what now?" Kid said.

"Told you I'd fix it, Jefe," Black Star said, wandering past with his arms full of amps and cords.

Kid stammered, still trying to wrap his mind around the sudden influx of people snapping selfies in his shop. He shook his head and headed back to the storage room to get more stock -- they were suddenly running low on far more than San Den See merch. A pile of Ragnarok's books sat discarded in the corner.

On his way back, he heard a knock so soft he nearly missed it. Frowning, he went to the back door and opened it to find himself face to face with Crona.

"Oh," they said, stepping back and tucking a strip of hair behind their ear. "Hello."

Kid exhaled. "Hello."

Crona shifted from foot to foot. "May I come in?"

"Yes, of course." Kid stepped aside and waved them inside.

Thankfully, the band had vacated the break room to help set up the equipment on the roof, leaving the pair to themselves. Crona cleared their throat.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier. Ragnarok's behavior was inexcusable. I haven't been able to handle him for a long time, and I thought it was my fault, but being with you today and seeing how you treat your people... even those of us who don't work for you... well. I guess it finally helped me understand that it wasn't me. It was him."

Kid stepped forward and put a hand on their arm. "I'm glad. I hope it makes your job much easier."

Crona smiled softly and looked down, blushing. "I tendered my resignation an hour ago."

"Oh," Kid said. "Should I say congratulations?"

With a soft laugh, Crona nodded. "It was a hard decision, but it was definitely the right one. Oh, and before I left, I picked up a few things from my mother's... the Gorgons'... offices."

They held out a manila folder they'd been carrying under their arm. Kid accepted it, raising an eyebrow in question.

"What's this?" he asked as he flipped the folder open and sifted through its contents.

"Just a few photocopies and some, um, photos."

Kid paused at one of said photos, blinking down in recognition. "This is my shop."

"Yes," Crona said.

"This looks like a photo you'd take if you were casing the joint."

"Yes."

Kid flipped through the other photos. "These are all properties that sold to the Gorgons in the last year." He looked more closely at the photocopies. "Are these... debt amounts? Are they _loan sharking?_ "

"And racketeering and committing insurance fraud," Crona tapped another sheet in the folder. "Among other things. I thought this might be useful if they give you any more trouble."

Kid closed the folder and held it reverently. "And you'd be okay with me using this against your mother?"

Crona shrugged. "She's told me to stop calling her that for almost as long as I can remember, so might as well start today."

"This is..." Kid stared down at the folder. "You have no idea what this is... how much this means..."

He set it down on a nearby box and grabbed Crona's hands, pulling them in close for a kiss. Crona gave a surprised squeak and then returned it.

After a moment, they stood back and Kid cleared his throat. "That is, I meant to say... thank you."

"It was my pleasure." Their hands were still clasped, and Crona gave his a gentle squeeze.

Black Star clamored down for another bundle of stuff and commented, "Still weird, but get it anyway, nerds." He disappeared back up the stairs before they could respond.

"Anyhow," Kid said. "We appear to be hosting a concert tonight. Would you like to stay?"

"I'd love to," Crona said.

Meanwhile, the band and Soul were almost finished setting up. Maka didn't know enough about music to do much with the instruments, but she could manage the electronics, so she helped Black Star with the sound system.

"Cha-cha-cha-CHECK, this is a mic check, bow before me, minions," Star said into the microphone while Maka adjusted knobs to minimize feedback.

Below, the street was rapidly filling with a better-than-respectable crowd. They screamed and clapped up at the group on the roof. Star went to go check the pair of webcams he'd set up to catch the performance and took great pleasure in posturing for the crowd.

On the other side of reality, Soul was having a stoic-faced internal freakout of epic proportions. He calmly wound an amp cable around his arm while an endless scream echoed inside his head, and he jumped a mile when Maka put a hand on his arm.

"Hey," she said. "You're going to be okay."

"You don't know that," he mumbled.

"Yes I do. You said you used to do this a lot."

"I used to _hate_ doing this."

"Because you weren't doing it for yourself." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "This time, do it for you. Screw everyone else."

He smirked. "Says the person who's not performing in front of a thousand people."

"Pretty sure it's a few thousand, bro. Not counting the online viewers," Black Star called. Soul winced.

Maka wrapped her arms around him. "You'll be great."

Black Star walked up. "Dude, does Jackie know you're crush-cheating on her?"

Soul rolled his eyes. "Jackie's not into me, man. I moved on."

"Fair," Star said, wandering off.

Maka's eyes grew concerned. "Wait, you like Jackie?"

Soul rubbed the back of his neck. "It's... complicated. Suffice to say that I agreed to help a friend and it won't be an issue after today."

Maka looked confused, but nodded. "I'll take your word for it. Now come on, we need you at mic check now."

Tsubaki smiled to herself as she watched the pair walk off, then went downstairs to find extra picks. As soon as she reached the foot of the stairs, Liz caught her by the arm.

"Oh," Tsubaki said, breaking into a grin. "Hoped I'd see you before I went on."

In response, Liz pulled her into a hug. "Thanks for standing with me today."

Tsu wrapped her arms around her in return. "Always."

Someone cleared their throat nearby and they pulled apart to spot Wes bringing in a spare guitar. He gave them both a half-smile. It looked a little sad.

"T-minus ten minutes, Tsu," he said. "I'll see you up there." He nodded at them both and Tsubaki nodded back.

After Wes climbed the stairs, Tsu said, "I never knew how to ask you this when he was around, but..."

"Yes," Liz said.

Tsubaki blinked. "Yes what?"

"Yes, I'd love to go grab coffee with you later this week," Liz said with a smile. "I might not have cut it as lead singer and girlfriend, but I think I could manage groupie and girlfriend."

"Coffee it is, then," Tsu said.

Outside, Jackie and Kim dodged through the crowd, hands clasped together as they wove through the crush of people. Several music vloggers had set up camp on top of vans parked along the street. They were all writing notes or taking pictures or talking into their phone cameras. The street was absolutely packed, and Kim hoped the favor she'd called in to her buddy at the police station kept most of the cruisers away for the next few hours.

Black Star had finished setting up all of his digital feed cameras and barriers at either end of the crowd, so he came to find them in the crowd.

"You guys ready for this shit?" he yelled over the noise.

"Ready as we'll ever be," Jackie said as Kim jumped up and down, whooping.

Kim threw her arm around Jackie's shoulders and Jackie threaded their fingers together. Black Star cocked an eyebrow at them.

"Problem?" Kim said.

"Nah," Star answered. "This day's finally starting to make sense, is all."

High above them, Maka's small form approached the microphone. "Hello, Death City!" she called, and the crowd howled back at her. "You're here today to save an institution from falling into the hands of a trio of snakes. Say it with me: Stomp The Snakes, Save The Skull!"

"STOMP THE SNAKES, SAVE THE SKULL!" the crowd chanted.

"Thanks for your donations, which will go toward keeping our favorite local record shop open for a long time to come. I won't keep you waiting... We all know what we're here for. Introducing San Den See for their first live show since the record release, with their new lead singer, Soul Evans!"

The crowd's cheers were slightly confused and muted this time, but they cheered nonetheless.

Maka retreated and Soul came forward, a guitar slung across his chest. Even from a distance, Jackie could see his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Yeah, Soul!" Jackie screamed, and Star and Kim followed suit.

Behind him at the second microphone, Wes grinned. "Hey Death City, can you give us some courage? We're all a little nervous up here. Been a while."

Now the crowd went wild, their calls echoing down the block. People in the apartments down the way were starting to poke their heads out of the windows.

Star held up the tablet he was using to monitor the feed and showed Jackie and Kim. Dozens of messages were flying across the screen and the viewer count read 9,457, 9,458, 9,459...

Above it all, Soul's throat felt paralyzed. Somewhere behind him, Wes was talking to the crowd in that easy, practiced way of his. All Soul had on his side was the panicky tunnel vision that at least kept him from seeing the entire crowd. His tongue wouldn't come unstuck from the roof of his mouth.

He heard people call his name from below again. Friends. His friends were down there. He looked over his shoulder.

Maka. Maka was up here, shadowing him like she'd been doing all day.

Then Wes spoke in his ear.

"It's okay, Soul. We'll start together, all right? Together. Just play."

He nodded. It was all he could manage. The tap, tap, tap of Kilik's drum sticks sounded behind him, and Tsubaki's bassline kicked in. Automatically, his fingers went to the strings of his guitar, following Wes' lead and working on pure muscle memory.

Wes' voice sounded in his earpiece, crystal clear.

"Heaven knows..." his brother sang, and like a key clicking into a lock, Soul found his voice and joined in. [The crowd quieted as the song hit them.](http://thesockswhowearsfox.tumblr.com/post/156952839557/my-song-for-kitteninthedens-macabre-records-fic)

 

 _Heaven knows it's not what we wanted_  
_And Heaven knows it's not what we planned_  
_Heaven knows it's not how we started out_  
_And Heaven knows what I've got planned_

 _Whatcha gonna do, are you gonna_  
_Work at that strip mall for the_  
_Rest of your damn life_

 _Whatcha gonna do, are you gonna_  
_Hide the truth from her for the_  
_Rest of goddamn time_

 _Get up off the grass and_  
_Go and kick some ass_  
_Find out where you wanna go_  
_Oh_

 _Heaven knows it's not what we wanted_  
_And heaven knows it's not what we planned_  
_Heaven knows it's not how we started out_  
_Heaven knows what I've got planned_

 _Are you gonna give up so easily_  
_Or will you put up a damn fight_  
_Put up both your hands and take a_  
_Wild swing and make all this turn out just right_  
_All right_

 _Heaven knows it's not what we wanted_  
_And Heaven knows what I've got planned_

 

"Take it, Soul," Wes said.

Like he'd meant to do it from the beginning, like he'd done it a dozen times before, Soul picked out a guitar solo he'd only ever played for himself. He heard Tsubaki laugh joyously at his side as he and Wes picked the chorus back up for the outro.

 

 _Heaven knows it's not what we wanted_  
_And Heaven knows it's not what we planned_  
_Heaven knows now we've got started_  
_Heaven knows what I've got planned_

_Heaven knows..._

 

Soul exhaled and stumbled back. For an infinite second, everything stood completely still. Then the crowd hollered their appreciation, their applause and screams coming in wave after wave. The energy infected him from head to toe and he broke out in an enormous grin.

After that, the music fell like magic from his fingers. They played a few of the band's hits, then cover after cover.

Below, the music vloggers were talking to their live feeds and sending Snaps left and right.

A tall blond boy held his camera in front of his face and yammered excitedly to his captive audience. "Newcomer Soul Evans came out swinging. Liz Thompson's alto will be missed, but Soul gives the group a unique, discordant sound that's sure to set them apart in the scene, reminiscent of some of our 90s favorites. 'Heaven Knows,' the song introduced for the first time tonight, is sure to find a home with a brand new audience in addition to San Den See's loyal fanbase. Wish you all were here to see this!"

Kim and Jackie were caught up in the crowd, jumping up and down and screaming with the rest. At the next break, Jackie grabbed a panting Kim by the wrist and pulled her in for a kiss, laughing. Black Star smirked and made his way past them and through the crowd to the shop floor.

They were swamped. He hopped the counter to join Liz, Patty, Crona, and Kid, all of whom were manning a phone or a register.

"What is it?" Kid asked, his breath coming in gasps.

"Just wanted to show you the damage, Jefe," Black Star said, holding out the tablet for Kid to see.

"Oh gods, damage? What now?" Kid looked at the number on the screen and his jaw dropped. Patty picked up the slack and took over for his customer while Kid grabbed the tablet and held it up to his face.

"This number can't be right," he said.

"Well, the site takes a 12% cut, so don't get too excited. Told you we'd make that money back."

Kid shook his head in disbelief. "We made it back ten times over. I haven't even counted our retail earnings for today yet."

"So did we save The Skull?" Patty asked, her eyes wide.

Kid looked around at his employees, his friends, his father's store. Crona caught his eye and smiled. Perhaps the gods had been looking after things today, after all.

"We saved The Skull," he said, barely able to believe it.

The Thompsons squealed and enveloped him in a two-sided hug.

* * *

 

It took until well after midnight to clear the shop and the street. Kim ended up having to call her cop friend back to get him to go around the block and flash the sirens so the lingerers would scatter. They were all exhausted, laid out on the roof in the mercifully cooler night air. Black Star had run out with some of the cash from the register to bring back drinks.

Kim and Jackie sat apart from the others on the edge of the roof, their feet dangling over as they sipped their waters.

"I want to come with you," Kim said suddenly.

Jackie paused with her bottle halfway to her mouth. "What do you mean?"

Kim took a drink and looked at her. "To that fancy college town. I've been thinking about it for months, you being so far away all the time, and I hate the thought. It makes me feel like there's a hole in my chest every time I think about not being there with you. So I'm going."

Slowly, Jackie smiled. "I'm really glad you said that, because I was thinking about deferring for another semester."

"Don't you dare, brainiac." Kim leaned in and kissed her on the side of the head.

Nearby, Kid spoke with Maka.

"I'd really appreciate the opportunity," she said. "I realize we didn't get off to the best start, but if you let me, I'll make it up to you."

Kid chewed his tongue and looked over at Soul. "What do you think? Did she work off her debt?"

"And then some," Soul said, grinning as he brought his bottle to his mouth.

"Hm," Kid said. "I suppose we'll be losing Jackie in a month, and I think I probably have the funds to handle a new hire."

"Thank you," Maka said, shaking his hand with far too much enthusiasm. "I promise you won't regret it."

Once Kid extracted his hand, she made her way back to Soul. "Looks like we're officially coworkers. You'll have to help me learn the ropes for real so I can start saving up some cash. Next year, I'm out of here."

"Yeah," Soul said. "I doubt Wes will let me put off my destiny for another year, so I'm with you."

"Good," she said, leaning up to press her mouth to his without a care who saw. Soul laughed nervously against her lips and pulled one side of his hoodie up to cover them.

Kid leapt up onto the base for the neon lights and raised his glass. "I have an announcement. The announcement is: thank you. All of you. Without you, this place would have been turned into a snake pit."

The others booed good-naturedly.

Kid continued. "But The Skull lives on with old friends, new friends, and a better future."

Wes put his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Now let's dance."

Laughter rang out over the rooftop as Patty and Black Star queued up the sound system to play. When the first notes started, Soul looked around at them.

"Gin Blossoms?" he said. "Really?"

"Don't knock the classics, bro," Black Star said. "Less sass making, more ass shaking."

As the music floated above them and into the night, the crew took up their partners and spun around the roof, young and free. The stars stretched across the sky for miles in every direction. No one's future was set in stone, but the options certainly seemed better now than they had that morning. Or the morning before.

The future stretched into the great unknown, but that didn't seem so bad. Not anymore.


End file.
